


Ive Got A Special Power (That Im Very Afraid To Use)

by theycallme_ook



Series: the minute you hit water [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Batfamily (DCU), Gen, but we dont all get what we want now do we?, terry does not want to be the new lead of H2O Just Add Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallme_ook/pseuds/theycallme_ook
Summary: There's a man at his mom's door wanting to speak to Terry about an aquarium internship he didn't apply for. This may or may not have something to do with the magical bat-shaped pendant sitting in his desk drawer and the really, really strange night he had a week ago.
Series: the minute you hit water [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144235
Comments: 19
Kudos: 52





	1. i guess i was really motoring there

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCreativeCasseroles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCreativeCasseroles/gifts), [owlady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlady/gifts).



> Title from H2O: Just Add Water.
> 
> Not paramount, ig, but this fic will only really make sense if you've read 'Fish Out Of Water' by TheCreativeCasseroles and 'Flukes' by Owlady. Thank you both so much for letting me run wild w this!!

The ocean was… ~~hypnotic~~ , ~~amazing~~ , ~~terrifying~~ , ~~sublime~~ , ~~powerful~~ , ~~consuming~~ , present. And, now that Terry didn’t have to worry about trivial things like breathing and temperature, he had all the time in the world to enjoy being present in that presence.

He’d always felt a certain kind of way about the ocean, always seeking it out in some capacity in his daily life- juvie had been hell in more ways than one. The ocean forced you to be present in ways that the air did not. The ocean was pushing, pulling, moving with enough force to drag you along with it if you weren’t mindful, and that stimulation was both captivating and freeing in a way Terry didn’t know how to express he needed. He’d been obsessed with marine life as a kid (something that made his marine biologist dad very happy), he’d apparently pestered his parents enough about the beach as a child that it became a monthly tradition to visit, and he’d always taken seats in class that had views in the direction of the harbor if he could help it. Now, visits to the ocean consisted of more than jumping over crashing waves, collecting rocks and catching a glimpse of the occasional dolphin or ray.

Now, instead of being able to hold his breath for impressively long periods of time, he could just _breathe_ in water. Now, whole pods of dolphins ( _Tursiops_ _Truncatus_ , thanks dad) could and did swim up to him to play for an hour or two. Now, he had the directions of different underwater currents and riptides around Gotham harbor memorized. Now, he could spend days sitting on the ocean floor watching the sunlight trickle down in hypnotic patterns. Not that he did, of course -Terry would never want to worry his mom like that- it was more a matter of principle and the fact that he _could_. Because now…

Now he was  _ Mer _ .

\--

(Privately he thought if he’d been raised mer he might’ve had a fixation on land creatures instead, just for the fun of it.)

\--

The first week had been. Well, hectic would be putting it lightly. 

After the party and the chase and the Jokerz and the lighting and the accidental discovery of the secret cave which then led to the accidental discovery of his own mermish-ness, the night had ended with him hazily making his way back to his dad’s place, crying to get out of the usual interrogation/argument/shouting match and stumbling into bed with only enough presence of mind to strip off his wetsuit and put on dry socks before zonking out hard enough to miss breakfast and lunch the next day. In fact, he only came to when his dad gently shook him awake and pressed a phone into his hand. Terry then immediately drifted off hard enough to be startled awake again when Dana’s voice came out of the phone with the clipped call of-

“Terry!”

“Uh?”

“Oh my gosh Terry I've been trying to call you since nine but I forgot I still had your phone and so I called your dad a while ago and he said you were fine but to call later and so now I am but it's still just so- i don't know. Terry are you ok?”

“Y-” he tried to speak, but his throat was so scratchy and really, really salty and he had to take a quick moment to hack up a lung, which didn’t do much to support his reassurance to Dana, when he finally did manage to croak out a weak “Yeah.”

Wow he felt terrible.

Memories from last night filtered in while Dana continued to fuss. Not that he could fault her, of course, but his concentration on the conversation was lax as he re-lived the moments of  _ cold-surprise-fear _ and  _ dark-pain-confusion _ and  _ relief-surprise-shock _ that had encompassed his night after he’d led that gang of Jokerz away from the beach party. Dana let him off the line a few minutes later after saying something about ‘statement’, ‘dad’ and ‘police’, with a quick assurance about not being in trouble thrown in too. Then he was left alone. Exhausted and sore with aches all over and the strangest itch around his neck, yet too awake to fall back asleep now that he could remember…

Terry shot out of bed- he was _really_ awake now. Wide awake and rooting through his wetsuit (which was still sitting in a sopping pile on his carpet), then across his floor, then through his blankets in frantic search of _proof_. Proof that would mean the strangest part of his night and the aching of his gills _neck_ was real and not just some hyper-realistic dream he had post adrenaline crash. Proof of the lightning and the mansion and the cave because it just had to be a dream it _had_ to. How could he have made it all the way from Wayne’s Bluff and back home in the time he had? How could he have escaped those Jokerz? How could he have...he...how could…

How could the necklace be sitting in his palm?

The necklace that had been in the tube which had been in the cave which had been under the mansion and had turned him…

No.

No there's no way, there’s no way, there’s _ no way _ .

But-

His hand was slowly turning a deep inky black, his feet suddenly felt less like they were touching and more like they were one limb and his neck  _ itched _ .

He dropped the necklace. It was glass and red and called to him -somehow it called to him- and he wanted it wanted it _wanted_ it but he-

He really needed to go to the bathroom.

And then he needed to have a breakdown.

Slaggit this was not his day.

\--

Turned out, when the police showed up later that night, it wouldn’t be to collect a statement, but a body.

\--

Two days after the funeral there was a man at the door calling himself Timothy Drake wanting to talk to Terry. 

Two hours later he was in a car with Timothy Drake on his way to Wayne Manor.  _ The _ Wayne Manor. Because apparently their place was official enough to be a Manor, capital  _ M _ .

Pulling up to _The_ _Manor_ (Terry didn't think he’d ever be over that) at a leisurely pace in the afternoon light was a lot different than frantically running up the stairs from the beach access in the middle of a storm at two am. For one, he now had the time to appreciate all the nicely sculpted hedges lining the driveway and the regal sort of gothic look of the old architecture. 

He had been well and truly confused when his mom brought him to the living room to meet the man “from the aquarium”, but quickly got the message when the man gave him a look and tugged on a little pendant he’d been wearing -a pendant in the same bat shape as the one sitting in his desk drawer- before introducing himself as:

“Timothy Drake, he/him.”

“Terry McGinnis, he/him as well.”

Then Mr. Drake had given his mom this whole thing about Terry’s supposed application for an internship at the  _ Wayne Marine Biology Rescue & Research Centre _ (which, according to a quick web search,  _ was _ actually a real thing), even going so far as to produce  _ paperwork _ (what on earth?) and offering to take Terry on a tour of the facility before anyone actually put any final ink to paper. His mom had been excited, if a bit stunned, and all it took was for Mr. Drake to shoot him another significant  _ look _ before Terry was forced to assure her that ‘Of course! He would love to go on a tour of this marine biology centre that he  _ definitely _ knew about and  _ definitely _ applied to last month!’ He also definitely forgot to tell his mom because he just didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it or anything. Definitely. 

So here he was, walking into a secret cave by way of a secret door that he had found barely a week ago. Just a day before...

A lot of things had changed in a week.

The cave was different this time, though. Still an obnoxious collection of bat-themed items and tech, but this time, there were people.

Multiple people.

Multiple  _ Mer _ -people.

When Mr. Drake gave him a little nudge on the elbow, Terry realized he’d been staring. And blocking the bottom of the stairs. 

When he’d cleared out, Mr. Drake led him to the edge of the little lagoon? Pool? Whatever- access platform thingy that the humans were standing on and the mer were swimming next to. 

Right.

The old Bat Mer from that night was staring right at him with this sort of gaze that left Terry wanting to scuff his feet on the ground and plead ‘not guilty’. His hand twitched toward the pant pocket where he’d stuffed the pendant.

Aside from the Bat Mer there was also a mer who looked decidedly more human than the Bat, but who still had deep green scales and spines creeping up their arms and tail, a smaller mer with bright yellow eyes and pitch black skin that looked less like skin and more like an oily translucent sheen, a mer with rich bluish sort of scales and a head of black hair (like the green one but curler) and a red headed human in a wheelchair all staring at him with varying levels of interest and contempt. 

“Uh. Hi? I’m-” and here he had to stop because his voice broke. His voice broke! He was trying to introduce himself to one of the most legendary figures in all of Gotham and  _ his voice broke _ oh please someone just kill him now. 

He coughed to try and recover but didn’t miss the overly amused look in Mr. Drake’s eye or the slight snicker from somewhere off to his left. Slag him. 

Ears on fire, he was finally able to bite out a quick “I’m Terry” before the person in the wheelchair took pity on him by introducing themselves as “Barbara, she/her.”, which was apparently prompt enough for the others to start their own.

“Cass, she/her.”

“Damian, he/him.”

“Dick, he/him”

Which was all well and fine but Dick? And he did mean  _ Dick _ right and not dick because yeah it was a stupid thing to get caught up on but could you really blame him for freaking out when-

“Bruce, he/him”

When the bat. The legendary  _ Bat Mer _ of all people. Had a name like Bruce?  _ Bruce? _ When was he born, like the nineteen  _ forties  _ or something?

When Mr. Drake snorted and the snickering from before (which was definitely coming from Cass, now that he thought about it) returned in full force, Terry realized he had blurted that last part out. Him and his slagging big mouth. 

The Bat Mer-  _ Bruce _ had a wicked twinkle in his eye and just the edge of a smirk at his lips when he replied “Something like that”

“‘Something like that’, oh please B, don’t antagonize the kid.”

“What, am I not allowed to have a sense of humor?”

“Not that you’ve now spontaneously grown one while we’re trying to do business.” 

Their banter, fun as it may be, somehow managed to make the situation both weirder and more normal. Which, considering how the rest of Terry’s day had gone so far, was not an oxymoron he was sure he appreciated or hated. Ugh. Stupid Jokerz leading him to accidentally discover the stupid secret society of Gotham Mer.

“Terry.”

The sudden call of his name snapped him back to the moment. He locked eyes with Ms. Barbara, who again seemed to be leading the discussion.

“While I'm sure this is both upsetting and sudden, we really can't put off talking about your powers any longer. Plus, I'm sure you have lots of questions. We’ll do our best to give you answers.” She said this all with such compassion in her eyes and sincerity in her voice and all Terry could say in response was-

“Oh.” 

Questions. Right. Questions about the whole scaly… situation. Truthfully, he’d been too tired since… well… since that night to actually  _ think _ about what had happened, so instead he put all his energy into  _ not _ thinking about what happened. Which turned out to be fairly easy because he’d now spent the past week trying very very hard not to think about  _ anything _ that had happened. Hence he thought about… ugh. Slag this. He was just thinking in circles now while a bunch of living legends stared at him and made him feel like he’d been called into the principal's office. But he had to say  _ something _ . 

“I guess uh. I dunno, what the f**k?”

A round of chuckles broke out in response to that elegant solution of his, but it was the blue guy, Dick, who actually gave a reply.

“That's fair. I guess we should start from the top. Do you have the pendant with you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Terry fished the thing from his pocket with the handkerchief he’d brought along just for this. No way he was touching that thing right now. “Mr. Drake had me bring it.” he said, holding it up for the others to see. It glinted in the light that bounced off the water beautifully. Enticing and inviting- calling to him in a way that Terry had been trying to ignore for a week and was Very Pointedly going to ignore now.

“I suppose you want to know what it is?”

“Yes please.”

Looks were tossed around the room now as they seemed to parse out some final details before Dick spoke again.

“They’re vessels, specialized vessels, for a potent transformation spell. They allow us merfolk to take on power and strength beyond our own- these ones also carry charms to disguise ourselves. You know, like a uniform for when we do fieldwork.”

Terry nodded. That made sense. Store magic in a necklace that lets you transform and hide your identity. Fit the M.O. of someone like the Bat Mer.

“Ok, that rips. Sorry I took it, by the way. Do you guys want it back then? Because I really wouldn’t mind-” 

“Terry.”

This time it was Mr. Drake who called to him.

“If this were a normal case, I would have just come to your house and asked for the pendant back.”

Oh…

“But the thing is,”

Oh no.

“These pendants only work on  _ mer _ folk.”

What.


	2. "are you licensed???" "are you my mother??"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terry's confusions are confused. Can someone give him an emotional support hand squeeze??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only reason Ter calls everyone by their first name but calls Tim "Mr. Drake" is bc no one else has actually,, given them their last names. He prefers to call adults by their last names when they tell him to call them by their first just bc he's a prick lmao.

“What.”

“They only work on merfolk.”

“No yeah I got that part but I'm just- I'm not mer?”

Mr. Drake shot him a sympathetic smile. “That’s the problem then, isn’t it? How was a human affected by mer magic? Watch-” Mr. Drake reached out, cupping the red pendant in his hand. Letting it sit there for a moment or two before he spoke up again. “See? It doesn’t do a single thing to me. And neither does this one-” here he touched the yellow sea glass pendant hanging around his own neck, “even though it has plenty of magic too.”

Terry felt his stomach give a tight little squirm. After the day of his dad’s murder he hadn’t touched the thing once, being sure to wrap it in a sock before he stuffed it in a box to take to his mom’s place. He had almost touched it again, when he was unpacking that very box, before deciding that he _did_ _not_ have the emotional energy to become the next Chosen One in whatever YA fantasy novel he had found himself in as of late.

“Wait so does then that, I mean, my parents are human so how does that even work?”

“We don’t know, and that's what we wish to find out.” Damian said.

And that sounded great, except… “I guess this means I can't just hand this thing over and leave, then?”

“Yes.” replied Damian. “For your health and safety this matter must be investigated thoroughly. Also, you know of the identity and location of the Bat Mer. We cannot let you roam free with this information.”

Terry’s mind short-circuited a little bit because that sounded a lot like he was being  _ threatened? _ Was Damian threatening him? Damian then opened his mouth to say something else, but was hastily interrupted by a contrite looking Dick.

“Not that we’ll be like, holding you hostage or anything! It's simple, really. Blood tests and whatnot for the mer stuff, and being sworn into secrecy for the bat stuff.”

“Wait, like, for  _ real? _ I'm going to have to go into magical witness protection? Change my name and crap?” He was panicking again now but c'mon, this is  _ really _ not how he wanted this week to go!

“No no!” Dick cried, waving his hands as if to calm a wild animal. “That was just a joke! A bad joke, I’m sorry.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Silence reigned for a moment then as the rest of the group did that conversation thing-with-the-eyes that adults do that usually meant Terry would not like whatever they were about to say next. Damian and Bruce looked tense, Barbara and Mr. Drake looked curious, Dick was still looking at him, slightly apologetic and Cass looked… Well. Terry couldn’t actually see her features well enough at this distance due to the… everything about her. But from the set of her shoulders he thought she looked relaxed? Maybe. They were still going at it with the mind reading (wait, mind reading?  _ Did _ mer have the ability to communicate telepathically? If so he was so screwed.  _ So _ screwed. This situation had just become most un-schway. Please don’t let them be telepaths that would just be  _ the worst _ . Ugh! Focus, Terry!) 

Surprisingly, it was Cass who broke everyone out of their respective headaches with the simple call of “Sit.”

“What?” 

“You all should sit.”

Terry’s gaze immediately drifted to Barbara.

She shot him an amused smile. “Cass is right. Let me go get you a chair. We’ll talk more in-depth once we’re all comfortable. Dick!”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me.”

“Kay!” 

Terry realized now that the entire cave had both wheelchair and mer accessible paths spanning the length of the place, branching out in some spots over into what he assumed were storage rooms. He watched Barbara wheel down the path while Dick swam alongside and wondered how much help Dick would be in fetching chairs if one wanted to sit somewhere  _ dry _ . Though, based on the voices he could faintly hear coming from the hallway they'd gone down, it might be fair to say she’d asked him along for the company. Terry hadn’t realized he’d completely zoned out till a tug on his pant leg broke his concentration. He looked down to see Cass in the pool right in front of him. From this distance, he realized that the yellow of her eyes also made an appearance in a little line of scales trailing down her cheekbones and arms. It was actually pretty schway in a striking, inhuman way. 

“Are you ok?” said Cass in a small but soothing voice.

Terry wanted to lie to her. Even more, he wanted to be able to say ‘yeah’ and  _ mean _ it, but he couldn’t, so he settled for “Kinda. I guess.”

Cass’s smile was the same as her voice. Small but soothing. Then she reached her hand up, and Terry found himself crouching down to take the bit of proffered comfort. Her hand was colder than a human’s, and he was right in assuming that the sheen of her skin meant she was slightly slimy. It felt a bit like holding a fish, but Terry had also never held a fish that didn’t try and run away from him, so he wasn’t even really sure what comparison he was trying to make. It wasn’t bad though. Wasn’t bad at all. Terry wondered if this was maybe what having a big sister felt like.

He was still crouched there when Barbara came back with two folding chairs balanced across her lap, Dick swimming just beside her, and, in response to her silent question when their gazes met, simply sat down right where he was. Barbara set up the chair anyways. 

By the time they were finished talking Terry still hadn’t used it.

\--

It was decided that a blood test would be administered. Terry had been hesitant at first, but when Mr. Drake had shown him the state of the art medbay equipped to handle both human and mer treatment, he was reminded of the fact that these were the people who had taken it upon themselves to fight crime as a hobby. Mr. Drake ran him through all the things they would be looking for in his blood as he was poking an IV line in Terry’s arm, but since Terry only had tenth grade biology to go off of, he got that the basic gist was ‘mer DNA’ and that was fine by him. 

After that, there was tentative discussion about getting him an actual internship at the aquarium. Now that he wasn’t being cornered into playing along, Terry told them that he would consider it. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to do actual job stuff. Besides, he needed all the help he could get to distract potential employers from the big fat ‘JUVIE’ stamped on his record. Either way, he was going to need to keep it up as a cover story.

By the time they had set up a schedule (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday from four to seven. They’d be researching his mer-ness but also kindly promised to help with whatever homework he had, so really this was just an elaborate set up for what was quickly becoming the weirdest study hall of his life), and run a couple more medical scans it was nearly time to drop him back off at his mom’s. He was just moving to collect his jacket from where he’d left it in the medbay when Bruce beaconed him aside. He was still intimidating, but now that Terry had spent the past couple hours watching him and his kids interact, it was easier to look past the dark mysterious air surrounding the mer. 

“Terry, you seem to be handling this well, but I still wanted to ask you- how are you doing?”

Terry shrugged in lieu of a verbal answer. Bruce had been watching him all afternoon, and everyone seemed to know what happened to his dad, so…

“You know you don’t have to do anything about this, right?”

“Huh?”

“The pendant. This whole situation. It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean.” When Terry only gave him a blank stare, he continued. “I just wanted to make sure you know that this knowledge doesn’t put you under any obligations. If you want to go back to your normal life after we’ve cleared up the health aspects and forget this ever happened, that’s ok. Don’t rush into life changing decisions.”

That got Terry to crack a weak smile. Bit of a late warning. Every life changing decision he’s ever made had been rushed. But, what Bruce was offering… would be nice. Leave the pendant, leave the mer, focus on school, family, friends and forget this whole ordeal. It would be nice. But at the same time, some part of him, deep down in a place he was going to ignore for the time being, knew he could never. Not when this made so much sense. But he didn’t want to, or know _how_ to express that right now, and all he said was, “Ok.”

Bruce gave him a small smile in return and a pat on the shoulder before waving him towards the door with a little goodbye. 

Terry had a lot running through his mind on the ride home. Like the fact that his Magical Girl transformation wasn’t all just a bad dream, or the fact that he would have to give his mom some crap about how  _ “The aquarium was great! Lots of pools. Lots of cool creatures. We’re doing a real schway bit of genetics research actually, it’s super interesting. Lots of fancy tech I gotta learn how to operate”, _ and how he was probably going to lock himself in his room and watch farming videos to decompress for the rest of the night. But the thought that kept coming back to him, the one that stuck like the barnacle on a rock that slit your leg open when you slipped and fell, was just how  _ kind _ they all were. And yeah, maybe he should have expected it when meeting the people who fought crime on the streets out of the goodness of their heart, but meeting them-  _ seeing _ it in action was something else entirely. 

It was weird, but maybe he had unwittingly found more than a pod of crazed magical mer with too much time on their hands.

Maybe he had found some friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> creating batman content is the only thing that I have energy for this week and the last. I'm @theycallme-ook on tumblr if y'all want to see my Terry doodles.
> 
> REMEMBER: you are lovable!! You people spending time on you is not a waste!! bc you deserve it!! Don't make me come over there >:((


	3. "well, it's all we've got"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> terry connects w the rest of the family! Or, here's a couple thousand words I didn't plan to write.

“Terry, are you aware of you or your parent’s medical history? Do you know if there was ever any trouble with your pregnancy?” came Ms. Gordon’s call from the room over.

Terry blinked. He’d been sitting at the computer desk doing homework as per Mr. Drake’s instruction for the past hour. It had been a week since his first time in the cave and this was already his fourth visit. He wasn’t sure how long DNA tests took, but according to TV shows, he felt it should’ve been quicker. Then again, maybe basing his estimation off of TV wasn’t the best decision. Also, he had no idea what kind of equipment they had in the cave medbay, maybe they’d had to send it somewhere else. 

“I dunno. They might have mentioned fertility treatment to me when I was a kid.” he paused to think for a second, “No, yeah- cause I remember being really excited that robots helped make me.” 

He heard Ms. Gordon laugh. Which was good. She had seemed tense about something for the past few days.

“Why? What did the tests say?”

No answer. Terry tried to go back to his homework with a sigh. He’d been oscillating between urgently wanting answers and never wanting any at all. (Ideally, he’d been cursed or something when he was young to be mer somehow. Or maybe one of his grandparents or great grandparents had secretly been mer. Un-ideally, one or both of his parents had been keeping some very big secrets from the rest of them. He was fairly positive he could rule out cheating, because he had been conceived with a syringe, and why would a couple on the rocks like that go in for treatment? Besides, if that were the case, adultery would have definitely been brought up in the divorce court proceedings.) If he got answers he could stop worrying, but if he got answers it could also mess up everything. The cryptic comments and weird stares he had been getting from everyone at the cave all week hadn’t helped his fretting either. Case and point being Ms. Gordon’s latest question leaving Terry unable to concentrate on his schoolwork. Ugh. 

Here’s to hoping they felt the need to tell him what was going on sometime soon.

\--

Barbara really didn’t want to have this discussion anytime soon.

The test results had come back a week ago. Not hard when you had a lab in your basement. The problem wasn’t time no, it was the results themselves. Oh the magical stuff was fine and his health all checked out, it was just the… other components that were worrying. So she checked again the next day. And the next. And the day after that, even sending out a sample to an independent lab to get it doubly-double checked. On the fourth day Dick had come up to her as she was hacking into the McGinnis’s medical files in search of answers and waited patiently by her side until she let out a passionate “Of course! Wait! No!”

“What?”

“The McGinnis’s had problems with conception. Terry was inseminated artificially.”

Dick, who had not been around to witness the past couple days of Barbara’s research, waited a moment before prompting her with a slow “...and?” 

“Neither of his parents are mer.”

“Oh.” said Dick. Then her statement sunk in. “Oh! Wait so then how...?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is the clinic they went to like, wierd or...?”

“I'm looking into it.”

“Because that can’t be legal.”

“Yeah.”

Dick cursed.

“Yeah.”

They sat with only the sounds of Barbara’s keyboard clacking and the constant dripping of water that echoed around the cave for a moment or two before Dick perked up with another question.

“So do you know which side is mer?”

“Paternal.”

“Yikes that’s rough.”

Barbara hummed in agreement.

She could see Dick scrutinizing her out of the corner of her eye. He was onto her, but let it rest for a minute before springing the question.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

He raised an unimpressed brow. “Babs, you’ve got that look. I know you have more info. What is it?”

Barbara let out a deep sigh, pulling away from the computer to crack her knuckles and rub a hand over her sore eyes. “You’re not going to like it.” she warned.

Three days later and she liked it even less.

She had three questions. One, how did they swap out the genetic material? Two, who was behind this? And three, how had they gotten ahold of… of Bruce Wayne’s genetic material? More importantly, why? Actually, that was four questions. She had four questions and in three days had gotten the answer to only two of them. Which sucked. The answer to question one she got within the first day, looking through the employee records showed that there were records of a Gerald Buttress being hired by the fertility clinic shortly before the McGinnis’s came in for treatment who left shortly after the delivery of a healthy baby Terry. A background scan on him revealed shady connections which placed him as the prime suspect. Similar searches revealed another employee with similar underground connections who left just before Buttress arrived, leaving Barbra with the unfortunate suspicion that whoever “ _ they _ ” were had been screening couples for a long time. Even more unfortunate, until the two former clinicians could be investigated further, she had no idea who “they” even were. There was nothing linking Buttress or the first employee, so whoever had done this was hiring out and had been careful not to leave a digital trail. Slag. To question three she didn’t have an answer specifically, but it wasn’t a stretch to assume whoever had orchestrated this had found blood or something at one of their crime scenes. The problem now was Terry was fifteen and Bruce hadn’t been in the field in twenty, so she had a lot of decades old trails to find and follow. Questions two and four though… who knows. She would figure that out after they found their mad gene-swapping culprits. Ugh this was such a mess.

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She had been doing a lot of that in the past week after Tim and Steph handed her the reins of the (at the time, much simpler) investigation and headed home for the night. The poor kid…

Barbara wheeled herself into a position to peek out the medbay door at the computer where Terry had plopped himself down for the evening. He’d already been through so much this past month, and he was taking it as well as could be expected. She really hated that her info had the potential to seriously mess up his already fragile equilibrium. Not that biological relation really mattered in the long run, just take a look at her family, but his father was already such a fraught subject.

There really was no winning in this situation, was there?

She had told Bruce last night- him and the rest of the family. They were already planning a larger scale investigation, finding out Bruce had another biological son was reason enough to pull a few folks out of retirement temporarily, but, when it came to how they would approach Terry about all this, they had nothing. First step though, she supposed, was to try and gauge how he might react to this and how much he already knew.

She called out her question.

Terry’s response startled a laugh out of her, which was nice. He was such a sweet kid. But what was nicer was confirming that he at least knew about the whole insemination thing. Hopefully he wouldn’t jump straight to infidelity, then. Now, if only there was an easy way to spring the news of surprise relatives on someone. 

Personally, Barbara wanted to wait until after their investigation had turned up something concrete so they could give Terry a name and reason behind all this. Understanding the ‘why’ always helped her deal with new situations. But as it stood, their plan was to hold a meeting once Bruce and Damian got home and break the news. They also needed to ask Terry if he wanted to bring his mother into all this, seeing as Mary McGinnis was the victim of this crime. As it stood though, living in ignorance of your son’s true biology might be preferable to the danger that came with association with The Bat. Not the most ethical call to make, perhaps, but it was the kind this lifestyle sometimes necessitated. A shame that Terry would be making one young. 

It was then that Barbara heard the telltale sound of the cave’s security being disengaged. She glanced at the clock. It was too early for Bruce or Damian, Cass and Dick were already inside and relaxing in the underwater lounge, Tim and Steph were still at work and wouldn’t be due till later, which left… 

Well, speak of meetings and they shall occur.

She wheeled herself out of the medbay in time to see two very familiar heads peek up out of the water.

“Hey Barb!”

“Hey there, token red-head.”

“Hello, favorite and least favorite brother.”

“Least favorite? There’s no way Dami’s risen up the ranks that fast!”

“You’re right. It’s more about how quickly you’ve sunk.”

Jason’s theatric scoff of mock offense sent Barbara and Duke into a fit of snickers. 

“So, where’s this young blood I’ve heard so much about?” said Jason.

“Up there.” replied Barbara, waving a hand toward the computer where Terry had abandoned his homework in favor of openly staring at the new arrivals. “Come on down, Terry.”

The kid made it down quickly, no doubt eager to meet the fifth and sixth mer he had ever seen in his life.

“This is Duke and Jason, two more of the Batkids. Both he/him.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Same here. Word is that you can switch between being full mer and full human?”

“Uh, yeah. Though I haven't actually done it since that one time.”

“Dang. What I would give for a power like that. Wish I could walk again.”

“I- sor- what?”

“Wow Babs, a whole week and you haven’t even gotten around to telling him the Tragedy of Me?”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “Right, sorry I don’t wail the hallowed tale to every unfortunate passerby.” she said in a deadpan.

“As it should be! My life would make a  _ phenomenal _ play- no wait, make it a musical. I deserve that kind of recognition.”

She saw Terry crack a smile at their back-and-forth. Jason did always have a way with putting kids at ease.

“So wait, walk again? I thought all half mer-humans could transform?”

“They can, problem is I used to be full human and now I’m full mer. Which means I will live with the acute longing to climb a tree for the rest of my existence.”

Terry looked properly impressed.

“Ok, that’s gotta suck, but not gonna lie it also kinda rips. Like, how does that even happen?”

Jason then proceeded to launch into a (quite good) retelling of his sordid sorry life, mixing exposition and joke seamlessly till he had Terry laughing and engaged in a lively conversation about the kids own situation, Duke and Barbara butting in every now and again to bring Jason down a couple pegs when needed. 

Huh. Thought Barbara, watching Duke and Terry gang up on Jason in their new debate over which was the best off-broadway musical of all time. Maybe we should have waited till Jason got back to bring Terry in. It had taken this whole past week to get Terry this open and talkative even with Dick and Steph around.

They continued to fool around until Jason found out Terry had English homework, at which point Jason demanded that Terry let him help, citing the need for “eyes and ears of proper culture” to “teach the younger generation how it’s done”. Terry laughed and said something about the only culture being grown was a culture of fungus in his head before the two darted off back to the computer to dissect some poor nineteenth-century fool’s magnum opus.

Barbara eyed Duke. “I didn’t know you had such a strong opinion on  _ Hadestown _ .” she said with some suspicion. 

Duke matched her judgmental gaze with one of his own. “I live underwater Barb, not under a rock. Besides, you just like  _ The Lightning Thief Musical _ because you relate to Annabeth.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It is through fiction we find our truest expression of self.”

“That and Percy reminds you of Dick.” 

“That too.” said Barbara with an exasperated sigh. Duke laughed.

“So, where  _ is _ your favorite Seaweed Brain?”

“He and Cass are down under. We’ll have our meeting soon as the Waynes get home.”

“Are we including Terry in that, or…?”

“Not unless he wants to be.”

“Of course.” said Duke as their gazes drifted over to where Jason had hauled himself up into the chair next to Terry’s and now appeared to be doing a horribly nasally impression of a wealthy British aristocrat bemoaning social mobility as the destruction of civilization. 

“Barbara.”

“Hm?”

“He’ll be ok.” Duke said with a smile. “I’ve only known Terry for fifteen minutes, but I think he’ll turn out alright.”

Barbara let out a small huff. Leave it to Duke to see right through her. “I just don’t want to make this any harder for him.”

“You’re not going to ruin his life, Barb.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really helping either.”

“By being the one to find out about this? Barb, it’s not your fault.”

“I know that. Intellectually.”

Duke gave her a wry smile and a pat on the arm for her efforts.

“Look at it this way, then. I’m pretty sure nothing builds character like finding out you're the biological son of the Bat Mer.”

Barabara snorted. “Oh yeah, way better than a camping trip.”

“I think they even have the same chin.”

“Yes! You see it too? Dick doesn’t believe me.”

“Dick’s yanking your chain. Physical features aside, I’m just glad Terry got his sense of humor from his mom’s side.”

A loud squeak from Jason that sent Terry into a fit of laughter matched the timing of their conversation perfectly. 

“Aren’t we all.” 

\--

It was nearing seven by the time Damian and Bruce got back. The Drake-Brown’s had shown up half an hour ago and Tim had taken the liberty of calling Mary McGinnis to let her know they would be returning her son a bit later than usual tonight.

They were now all gathered around the main pool, Terry sitting on the edge beside Jason, pants rolled up and feet dangling in the water next to Cass. The rest of the family was also scattered round, but close enough to Terry that it felt a bit more personal than the last time. 

“So,” Terry’s voice rang out across the silence, “The test came back?”

“Yes,” said Steph, taking initiative in the conversation, for which Barbara was thankful.

“Shway. What’s up, then?” said the boy with a sort of forced calm.

“Well, you know how your parents had to get fertility treatment?” 

“Yeah?”

“We’ve figured out that instead of doing what they were supposed to, one of the clinicians swapped out your dad’s material for that of a mer.”

Terry’s eyes went wide, an absolutely baffling mix of shock and  _ joy _ flitting across his features as his mouth tried and failed to form words for a good half minute. Barbara’s confusion was only worsened when the kid finally regained the ability, because what came out of his mouth was:

“I’m a  _ Milliner’s House _ baby?!”

“A what?”

Terry was full on grinning now. This was  _ not at all _ within the  _ solar system _ of Barbara’s predicted outcomes. 

“It’s this animated fantasy kids show where a bunch of kids find out they’re heirs to the throne because the queen’s brother wanted to ensure her bloodline lived on but it went really wrong and they have to team up and fight a hat-maker and save their parents.”

The fact that no one appeared to know what to say to that seemed to make Terry grin even harder.

“Huh. I guess there really is a show for everything.” mused Steph.

“I thought this was a lot like  _ Jane the Virgin _ .” said Duke.

“Never heard of it.”

“Before your time, kid.”

And the silence was back as they waited for Terry to process things. Initial, very confusing, outburst aside (kids these days, honestly) Barbara was now waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So…” hazarded Jason, poking the kid in the leg to stir him out of his thoughts. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” said Terry quietly, joking tone dropped. Cass took his hand. “I guess. I mean, it makes sense. Neither of my parents are mer so it’s not that much of a stretch. It’s still crazy, like something out of a soap opera, but…” the kid shrugged. “I guess I’m kinda mad about losing that connection to my dad, but he’s still my dad, ya know? This doesn’t really change anything.”

Terry’s solemn speech lifted a weight off Barbara’s shoulders. Duke was right. Of course he was. She hadn’t ruined the kids’ life. Terry’s life had not been ruined and was taking the news well, too- even though Barbara hated the reason behind that maturity. 

“Would you like to know who it is?” spoke Barbara, her relief giving her the energy needed to pipe up for the first time in this discussion.

“Who? You mean like, my uh, my mer relative?”

Barbara nodded. 

Terry sat back for a minute to think, receiving a quick hand squeeze from Cass and leaning into Jason’s touch when the mer scooted closer and wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders for support.

“Nah.” Terry finally said, looking up to meet her eyes and giving her a weak smile before going back to staring at the water being swirled around by his foot. And if his voice was a little strained when he managed to bite out a full sentence, well, he was in a room full of vigilantes. No one was going to judge.

“Nah, maybe… maybe later. If that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok.” said Jason, quick to reassure both verbally and with a strong side hug that Terry melted into. “If you never wanna know, that’s good too. You’re fine, twip. Take your time.”

Dick took Barbara’s hand from his spot on the floor beside her and gave it a squeeze while they all waited for Terry to regain his composure. Barbara squeezed back. 

“Did they know about me?”

“They didn’t before, but they do now.” it was Bruce who replied this time, and Barbara had to consciously suppress the instinct to glance at Dick and his -probably- poorly concealed smirk. “It was quite a shock, and they’d like to get to know you, but they’re more concerned about what you want.”

Terry nodded, regaining a little of the color that had fled at Bruce’s revelation. 

“Tell them thanks, I guess, and that I’ll think about it sometime.”

Bruce gave the boy a small smile. “There’s no pressure, Terry. Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Ok.”

They let that settle for a minute. The whole group once again giving Terry the time he needed. A couple minutes later though, Tim decided to address the final thing on the agenda.

“Do you want to tell your mother?”

“I mean, yeah, but…” Terry furrowed his brow in thought. He really did look a good deal like Bruce when he did that. The thought brought a small smile to her face, a quick glance at Dick confirmed that he had also had a similar realization and Barbara had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “Didn’t you guys say knowing about this place put me in danger? Wouldn’t telling her be like, bad?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, kid.” sighed Steph. “You can tell her if you really want, though. Especially cause you deserve to be able to talk to her about all this. But, yeah. It might be safer to wait till after we’ve figured out who’s behind this- and take them down if we need to.”

Terry smirked at that. “Ok then. I’ll wait on that one too.”

“Understandable,” said Damian. “It’s not every day you find yourself a real-life Ketato.”

Terry jolted up straight, sadness apparently forgotten in his renewed shock.

“Wait! You’ve seen _The_ _ Milliner’s House!? _ ”

“I have.” confirmed Damian with a smug nod. “The animation is quite good and the story is delightful. More people should watch it.”

“Absolutely! It’s so crash! Who’s your favorite character?”

This time, when Dick caught Barbara’s eye, neither of them were quite able to stifle the laughter that bubbled up. All that tension, gone in a flash.

The new, much lighter conversation kept up for a few minutes until someone had the presence of mind to check the time and say “Oh sh- we need to get Terry home, like, now!” and all of a sudden the cave’s occupants were in a mad scramble to gather Terry’s things and get him out the door, but not before Cass could give him one last hand squeeze, Jason could promise to help with the kid’s homework tomorrow and Damian could shout out a show recommendation to Terry’s retreating form.

Overall, it was agreed that tonight had been a great success. Certainly not as explosive as Barbara had come to expect from her bunch of drama queens, but that might have been setting the bar a bit low. Not everyone took news as bad as they did. Either way, she knew it went fine, and was fairly confident Terry would be fine as well. 

Barbara might even take him out for ice cream sometime soon. He definitely deserved it if he was gonna stick around this family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the Milliner's House is not a real show. I made it up for this fic and now have an entire show idea in my head. It do be like that sometimes.
> 
> remember to drink water! Like, right now! it helps w literally everything in life no cap


	4. "I'm relieving the tension!" ("you're making it worse" pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> terry has been emotionally exhausted for over a month, mers plan a land heist & everyone is slightly panicked for different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im breaking this chapter into 2 pts bc it's uhhh getting long and I'm impressed but also scared. Bon Appetite.

“So let me take it!”

“Terry, don’t start-”

“I know there’s something wrong about this, I _know_ there is! I’m not suggesting I do it all myself, all I’d need to do is just find some evidence and bring it to the police!”

“And there’s no guarantee they’d be able to do anything with it, Terry. Besides, we haven’t actively operated in this city for years, we don’t know if-”

“Would you stop making _excuses?_ My dad was _murdered_ and I could help bring his killers to justice, _don't you care about that!?_ ”

It had to happen eventually, Dick supposed. Though part of him was glad Terry felt comfortable enough around them to freak out, he wasn’t sure getting a celebratory plaque that read ‘Baby’s First Shouting Match’ was appropriate. It felt like they had all had this argument, at one point or another. The ever popular “why you should let me, a child, use ancient sea magicks to punch a dude in the face”. And he got it, he really did, just a few decades ago it had been _Dick_ screaming at Bruce for those exact same reasons. Dick was sure B was having major flashbacks right about now. It probably hit a nerve, too. Too many people in this cave could relate _too strongly_ . The case of a young boy with a murdered parent and the need to do something, _anything_ to try and make it better hit a little _too_ close to home. Which is why Dick was sure this encounter was about to go to the trenches. 

“ _Yes._ ” Bruce bit out, voice suddenly a deadly, cold sort of angry that made Terry pause. Old hands shaking just a little with the effort to keep them still. “I understand, even. I know what you’re going through.”

Despite the morbid course of the conversation, Dick couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of his dad. The old mer had come a long way in regards to being forthcoming with information. When Dick was Terry’s age, Bruce probably would’ve just dropped a dramatic “yes” before swimming off into the deep.

Terry’s brow was still furrowed in that way that reminded Dick of Bruce, but he seemed to be considering Bruce’s words.

“What do you mean?”

Dick wondered how much of the story Terry knew. The Waynes, once a staple of Gotham high society, had fallen into reclusion a few generations back for unspecified reasons, making fewer and fewer appearances until almost no one remembered their faces even though many could still see the traces they had left on the city. To the land-dwelling public, the name Wayne had become synonymous with gothic architecture, social welfare programs and the mysterious mansion by the water. To those in the know, however, the Wayne’s withdrawal had been due to their sudden involvement in the undersea world. Alan Wayne had fallen in love with and married Cathrine Van Derm. The two had a half mer son, Patrick Morgan Wayne, who in turn had his own son, Thomas Wayne, who married the mer Martha Kane, who had Bruce. By the time Bruce had been born, Wayne's Enterprises had changed its name to Tide Enterprises, but still conducted itself through a trusted intermediary of the Wayne family so as to keep control of the company while gaining minimal attention. Couldn’t have a mer showing at the office, after all.

“It’s the reason I developed these pendants, Terry. The reason I set out to become the Bat at all. My own parents were murdered as a child, so yes, I do understand.”

Terry looked sufficiently guilty at that, but still determined enough to press. 

“So you know why I need to do this, then.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, but this also puts me in a position to say no. I spent years training before I went out into the field, we are working on this case, and we can involve you in the research if you want, but taking the pendant out is not an option.”

The boy still looked like he wanted to protest, but seemed to sense that if he did they’d just be stuck arguing in circles. So instead he shot one last glare at Bruce before stomping off toward the stairs and up to the manor. 

Bruce ran a hand over his face and let the tension bleed out of his shoulders as the sound of the clock-door closing echoed through the cave.

“I take back every ill thought I ever had about Alfred.” he sighed.

“Didn’t you do that years ago?” Dick replied with a too-sharp grin.

“Yes, but now I take it back double.”

Dick laughed as the two ducked under the water to make their way to the lower levels.

“Well, Alfred did always say he hoped you had ten children just like you. What does this make, the ninth?”

“Hm.”

“Don’t worry B, you’ll be free of the curse soon.”

Bruce let out a good natured huff as Dick gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. 

“I’m not getting another kid.”

“That’s what you say every time.”

“This time I mean it.”

“You say that every time too.”

Bruce didn’t dignify that with a response so Dick counted it as a win by omission.

  
“B,” he began as the two settled into the alcoves in the common room. “Don’t worry about Terry, he’ll come around.”

“What, like you?”

“I have no idea what you mean by that,” Dick smirked. “But seriously, he’s a teenager whose dad was just murdered and has now discovered a pod of magical crime fighting mer _and_ that he can turn into one of said magical mer. His cause-and-effect skills aren’t the sharpest yet, so all he sees is a solution to his problem. We just have to keep up the investigation and set a good example for him. It might even be a good idea to give him a little bit of training. Just enough to keep him from doing anything drastic.” 

“That… might be reasonable.”

“It worked for the rest of us.”

Bruce’s smile was weak, but it was there, so Dick counted it as a win.

\--

They went to Terry with their proposition the next day. Well, more specifically, Dick went to Terry with the proposition, because the kid appeared to be pulling the classic ‘avoiding all conversation with Bruce’ maneuver. 

“Terry,” Dick called from his spot in the waterway nearest to the computer. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Terry’s eyes flicked up from his homework for only a second. He gave nothing more than a glum shrug of acknowledgment, but Dick could see that his stylus had slowed to a stop after a moment. Alright, so the kid was moody. Dick could work with moody.

“Look, we both know Bruce brought up some pretty good points last night, as much as I hate to admit it.” no smile yet, but he’d get there. “On-site vigilante investigation into the motives of the Jokerz? That’s a big ask to just spring on B like that. He gets real harsh when he’s scared, and I’m sorry he freaked out on you like that.” Terry’s grip on his stylus had tightened, but other than that, still nothing. Dick could sympathize all he wanted, but that was an apology he needed to hear from Bruce.

“We’re already looking into it though, okay Terry? If you think there’s more to your dad’s death than a random gang hit, we’re going to take that seriously. Bruce already spent a bunch of time on it last night. He thinks you might be onto something.”

That got a reaction out of him. The kid sat up straight and whirled his chair around to face Dick.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Terry. This is important, he’s not going to just leave it be.”

“But he hasn’t been the Bat Mer in years!”

“He hasn’t done _fieldwork_ in years. Too old. He’s a detective though, so he can still work a case.”

Terry seemed to think that over for a moment. 

“Won't you need someone, then? To go in the field?”

Dick couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. Babs was right- this kid really was the sweetest.

“If we need someone in the field we’ll pull Duke or Cass or Damian. They’ve got the training and experience needed for a mission.” the kid looked a little crestfallen at that, but didn’t protest. Choosing instead to turn back to his computer screen as Dick spoke again. “I appreciate you wanting to help, Terry, but this stuff is dangerous and we don’t want you to end up like your dad.” a low blow, but Terry needed to understand _why_ they said no, he was too much of a rebel to fall in line otherwise.

“But, this actually brings me to my next point, Terry. I want to make you an offer.” 

That got the kid to stop rubbing a hole in his jeans for a moment, though he didn’t turn to face Dick again.

“We’re willing to let you start some training. Self defense, investigation, that sorta stuff. We don’t ever want you going out to bust goons on your own, but we’re not opposed to you learning. We’ve been sitting back when it comes to surface matters for a while now, but with how things have been going the past couple years we’re thinking about running a bit of intervention. Either way, everyone would feel more comfortable knowing you can take care of yourself if someone connects you back here.”

“Would I get to use the pendants?”

Dick gave Terry a disapproving look but the kid was determined. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile indeed.

“Terry,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “I just explained to you why that’s a ‘no’. Dami and the others are adults, they’ll handle that side of things. A little bit of training does _not_ mean you’re becoming the next Bat Mer.”

“I know that! I just, like, wanted to know, ok?”

“Didn’t you want nothing to do with magic?”

“That was three weeks ago! I was a little freaked out at the time, sue me for not wanting to deal with all that!”

“Ok, Terry! Ok, I get your point, no need to yell.” Dick sighed internally. Teenagers. “If you feel ready we can start you with some lesser transformation pendants. Get you comfortable with the whole mer schtick. Then-” and here Dick shot Terry a sharp look, “there _might_ be a possibility of training in majiks, but we’ll have to wait and see.”

Terry huffed but seemed to accept that this was the best he was going to get because he didn’t press further. Brat.

“Yes or no then, kid.”

“What?”

“Yes or no. To the training? You still haven't answered my question.”

Terry did the Double Blink of Surprise. Seemed as if someone forgot about the original offer while trying to pick a fight.

“Uh, yeah. That sounds good.”

“Great! Glad we could get that all settled. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Dick made to drop back into the water before he remembered one more thing.

“Oh, and Terry?”

“Yeah?”

“Jay will be home in about an hour.”

And _finally_ , there was that smile.

\--

Turns out, Terry’s hunch about his father’s case was more than just survivor's guilt. Which was... actually something they needed to talk to Terry about. In fact, they should probably start the whole McGinnis family on therapy. He’d bring it up to the others later. For now, they had a series of suspiciously sanctioned then shut down projects by the Powers Tech. R&D that all listed Warren McGinnis as a key staff member. On the surface the projects looked fine, typical marine biology research. Digging a bit deeper, though, revealed their research to actually be about combining sea magicks with a chemical bomb, a concoction that would have disastrous effects on lifeforms both in the air and underwater. It looked like they were currently in the process of creating a gas version- which was a bio-war hazard that the world did _not_ need. Like, ever. What, exactly Warren had done to have a hit ordered on him was still unclear, but the project was listed as directly under one Derek Powers, a man not known for mercy in the underground circles. 

The whole thing was alarming, to say the least. They knew what they were doing when they pulled their operation out of the Gotham shore-side, but that never meant any of them had been happy about it. The circumstances had been extenuating and now they were… well here, Dick supposed. Gathered in the main cave hanger, planning a topside search for the first time in decades. Talk about nostalgia. 

“We should ask Terry to go through his father’s old stuff. See if there isn’t anything incriminating left. If the two worked together regularly and Powers wanted Warren silenced, there’s a chance Warren knew what sort of people he was dealing with.” said Tim, not looking up from his laptop perched on the desk next to the main computer. “Plus it’s a good way for Terry to feel involved.” he said as an afterthought.

“That’s because he _would_ be involved.”

“Well, yeah, but- you know what I meant, Steph.”

“Did I?” said Steph, not even bothering to sound innocent.

Tim just sent her a halfhearted glare. 

“It’s a good idea,” said Duke. “if he’s comfortable, of course. If not, Tim could go over in his stead.”

Barbara let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“We’d need to train him on what to look for, then.” said Dick, because apparently no one remembered that Terry had only agreed to training that afternoon and would not meet Bat Inspection Standards.

“Suspicious documents? Cryptic journal entries? Research files? I dunno man, I think we can just tell him to look for stuff the folks in Law & Order go after. Seems pretty straightforward to me.” said Steph with a smirk.

“We should probably have Tim go in anyways,” said Duke, pointedly ignoring Steph’s comment. “Find a time when Terry’s folks are out of the house and have the two of them do a sweep.”

Barbara hummed again.

“How’s the hack coming, Babs?”

“It’s already through, actually. Unfortunately, what they’re planning to do with their research has been kept off all digital records.” she said with a frown pulling at her lips that suggested she was more frustrated than she let her tone of voice express. 

Rightfully so, because that tidbit just made this investigation that much more complicated. No clear motive, no clear objective, no idea why, exactly, Warren was off-ed. They might find clues as to what happened with Warren once they searched the McGinnis’s, but until then, they were in the dark, and not the nice kind. (hopefully the man had done the moral thing and gotten cold feet, but if Terry’s dad turned out to be shady- well, they practically had a support group for that in this family.)

“The great commissioner, hacking into Powers Tech. databases?” gasped Steph in a horrible impression of Doris Day “why, officer, isn’t that just the slightest bit illegal?”

Barbara’s answer to that was a quick flash of a certain rude hand sign while the rest of them chuckled.

“Does it look like they’re moving to use it soon?” asked Tim, sobering the mood once again.

Babs shook her head, “all signs indicate the weapons aren't quite ready, and I have yet to find trace of any buyers, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they aren't there. Still, it’s nearing completion, so we’d better move quick.”

“Lovely.”

“Hm.”

“Are you gonna leak that info?” asked Dick.

“Course, but my folks topside will still need to investigate this anonymous leak _and_ there’ll be a court case for sure. It might be wise to shut this op down manually on top of that.”

“A.K.A, one of us is gonna have a rough night _real_ soon.” said Steph, dragging out the ‘e’ in real.

“My people could cover the brunt if we get a warrant fast enough. Actually, finding something from Warren could really help with that so Tim- clear a block for tomorrow. How soon I drop this info will depend on if you two find anything.”

“But those’re still heavy “if’s”, right.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“I’ll shoot Terry a message to let him know I’ll be there around three.” said Tim, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“Pm?”

“Am.”

“He’s not even gonna see it.” sighed Duke.

“Well yeah, but it’s more of a courtesy thing anyways so-” Tim stopped short.

“What?” asked Steph, voice gaining an edge.

“Nothing. It’s just- his location tracker says… maybe he left his phone here? But no wait it’s-”

Tim cut himself off at the familiar click-hiss of the clock door opening, followed by footsteps pounding down the stairs as a disheveled Terry McGinnis burst into view. Tired and panting, with a bruise forming on his jaw, the kid came to a stop just in front of Dick and Duke at the water’s edge as he collected himself enough to choke out a strained “Power’s has it. The evidence. My dad’s evidence.” before gracelessly flopping to the floor.

Then the cave exploded into chaos.

\--

With the knowledge that his homework was done, the Bats were looking into his dad’s case, and that he would be starting training soon, Terry felt like he finally had enough emotional energy to really confront the… files he’d found while going through his dad’s old things last night. The files he took one look at before promptly switching the computer off because… yeah. That was all just, a lot. And he had school in the morning so you know what? This was a problem for future Terry.

But now it was the future, and he didn’t have any distractions left to keep him away, so he’d tackle that situation… after dinner.

If dinner felt like it came and went a bit too quickly, that was because he was feeling anxious- not because the universe was conspiring against him. Dana had told him that line of thinking was “cliche” and Max had called it “melodramatic”, but neither of them were living out the events of an old fashioned penny dreadful, so maybe he could indulge in a little _melodrama_ right now.

Actually, forget penny dreadfuls, staring at the file titled “In the event of my death or disappearance” on his computer screen made him feel like he was in a spy movie. Especially now that he was taking a good look at the contents. Notes and tables and calculations and graphs for… something. The word weapon was used a lot. As was biohazard and casualties. He didn’t understand everything, but he understood enough to know that this was bad. Bad enough for his dad to update his will a few months back (a fact that they had recently had reason to find out), bad enough for him to take safety precautions (guess it finally made sense why dad was suddenly so keen on knowing where Terry was going, with whom, for how long, etc., etc. when he hadn’t much bothered before. Terry figured it’d had to do with his time in juvie, but this certainly helped explain things), bad enough for his dad to begin amassing evidence to use against Powers Tech., who he must have _known_ would have an extreme reaction if the title of the doc was any indication. If the title of the doc… oh.

It hit him then. Like water in your nose when you land wrong in the water. His dad- _his_ _dad_ \- the guy who used to toss him onto the couch for fun and narrate his cooking process in funny accents. The guy who’d save him all the purple freeze pops and buy him dolphin themed items to fuel Terry’s lifelong love of the animal. _That guy_ , the same one, had worked on some sort of bioweapon meant to _kill people_. Had apparently had a falling out with the project directors over that particular fact- because the body of Warren McGinnis was now lying in a cold coffin under the ground.

The realization left Terry nauseous. Nauseous, and angrier than he had ever been in his life. Angry enough to feel it in his whole body. In the tightness of his throat and the clench of his stomach, in the tense of his shoulders and the shaking of his fists, in the fact that he couldn’t even _think_ beyond the need to _hit something right now_.

So he did. Pillows were useful for more than sleeping, after all.

His outburst left him feeling marginally better, but it did clear his head enough to let him think. His first instinct was to go to his mom. Even though logically he knew she couldn’t do a thing about this, he just wanted to _feel bette_ r and for this all to _go away_. He wanted his mom to hug him and rub circles on his shoulders and tell him it was gonna be ok. But it wasn’t ok, and this couldn’t be fixed by a hug from his mom. His second thought took him to that old mansion on the seaside where a certain pod of mer lived. A pod that was currently investigating his dad’s murder. 

He was up in a flash, throwing on his jacket and bag, swiping up the file and putting it in a protective case before stuffing it in his pocket. He hadn’t taken his phone out during dinner, so he gave a quick lie to his mom about leaving it at the Research Centre before rushing out the door and toward the rail station with a single minded determination. He had made it to the final stop and was walking just outside the sparsely populated station to the bus stop when a sleek hover-limo veered to a halt on the sidewalk in front of him and the window rolled down to reveal _Derek Slagging Powers_.

Terry froze. Dad had worked for Powers. Dad had worked on a _weapon_ for Powers. Then dad had been attacked by Jokerz, but… there had been one little detail that had been bugging Terry for _weeks_ about his dad’s case. On that night, the door hadn’t been broken down, it had been unlocked from the inside. Warren McGinnis _always_ checked the peephole. Terry had assumed that the Jokerz that had followed him to Wayne’s Bluff had somehow gotten a good enough look at his face to track him and come for his dad in retaliation, but that was before he’d found out about _this_. 

Terry’s blood ran cold. The evidence in his pocket was motive enough for murder, and he was staring his dad’s old boss in the face.

Derek Powers smiled. 

It was the fakest smile Terry had ever seen in his entire life.

“Hello, Terrance,” said the man, “have you ever taken a ride in a limousine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to make up some lore for this that I'm still shakey on. Am open to input. Also, I'm 11k words into this fic and STILL have no idea how mers work @thecreativecasseroles & owlady plz send help lol


	5. "do you know anything about mermaids?" "are you crazy?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> terry has an... interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a oneshot. this was supposed to be a oneshot. I still have it labeled as 'terry mer oneshot' in my docs and it mocks me daily. enjoy.

A loud,  _ heartfelt _ “Slag!” was the first thing to break the silence following Terry’s revelation, with several more curses quick to follow.

Duke took stock of the situation. Steph was on comms in a flash trying to make contact with those away from the cave, Barbara and Tim were scouring city footage to try and determine Power’s location, if he had made any more sudden moves and a recording of his and Terry’s encounter, and Dick had taken it upon himself to check the kid over while Duke was left with the sudden realization that Terry had probably been in no presence of mind to make sure he hadn’t been followed.

Well sh- shoot. Dang it. Golly geez.

Duke swam over to the computers, anxiety curling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the frustratingly slow (a farce, the cave’s tech was top notch) loading sequence before the window for the security measures popped up and he could do a sweep of cams. And then another sweep, one of slower deliberation. Both came up clear and he let some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders. 

“Coast is clear guys.” he called to the others. Steph gave him a thumbs up and Dick gave him a nod, so he let the other three to it and started gathering up the gear they would need. The timetable had moved up but the mission was still the same: expose the underhanded dealings of Derek Powers.

Joy.

\--

Forty minutes later, Mrs. Stephanie and Damian were suited up in nondescript black field gear and ready to infiltrate the downtown Powers’ office, Ms. Cassandra, Mr. Duke and Mr. Grayson were set to shut down the lab and adjacent warehouse storing the weapon while Mr. Drake and Jason were to head to the McGinnis apartment to make sure Powers didn’t try the same move twice, with Mr. Wayne in the cave running comms and Ms. Gordon back at the station ready to be called in at a moments notice and finally get the drop on powers. They had tried to convince Terry to head home, but no one had put heart into the argument- probably because they could all see how distressed he was. That coupled with the fact that Powers  _ knew _ Terry knew, sending him home at this point would practically be asking for a repeat of last month.

After a quick debrief to make sure everyone knew the plan, the teams headed out, leaving Terry and Bruce alone in this huge empty cave. It had never felt as big as it did now, even on the afternoons he sat alone doing his homework. Maybe it was the fact that the cave had been full of people just a minute ago, maybe it was his anxiety about the mission, or maybe it was his encounter with his dad’s killer that had left him shaken, but he found himself drifting closer to old Mr. Wayne’s side than he had before. The mer didn’t acknowledge him at first, too preoccupied with quadruple checking everyone’s comms and monitoring their trackers on the map, but once everyone was safely en route the old mer turned and motioned to the empty chair beside him by way of invitation.

“Oh.” said Terry, half feeling foolish for forgetting the chair was there, half wanting to stay standing anyway. “Thanks.” he said instead and took a seat.

Mr. Wayne grunted in response.

Terry took that to mean ‘you’re welcome’ and settled in for a long wait.

\--

Once everyone made it into position, watching them work was  _ exhilarating _ . Whether it be Mr. Drake and Jason setting up high tech security stuff around his house, Ms. Gordon barking out commands to her underlings, the two person team preparing to infiltrate the Powers Tower, or the three mer team preparing to bust the place by the docks. Each and every one was a  _ professional _ and it  _ showed _ . This was all very, very shway.

The thought crossed Terry’s mind that this was also probably very, very illegal.

Oh well. At least it was for a good cause.

Everyone seemed to be speaking in a flurry of call signs and code that was tough to keep up with. Terry only got every fifth word or so. It didn’t even occur to Terry that he shouldn’t even be getting  _ that _ much until he mustered up the energy to ask a question about what someone said and got a strange look from Wayne.

“What?” asked Terry, a little on the defensive side.

“You understood that?”

“...yeah? Was I not supposed to?”

Wayne snorted.

“It's fine if you do, it’s just that Cassandra wasn’t speaking English.”

Now that Mr. Wayne said that, it occurred to Terry that Ms. Cassandra had not, in fact, been speaking English. He didn’t know what to make of that.

“What was she speaking, then?”

Mr. Wayne said something in that same language. It had a lot of clicks and whistles- like a dolphin, actually. It also must not have had any translation, because all Terry could figure was that it was probably a name.

“What?” 

Mr. Wayne repeated himself, slower this time, and tacked on “It’s the name of the language commonly spoken by mer in the New Jersey coastal region.” in response to Terry’s unaddressed confusion.

“What about speaking?” said someone over comms.

“We found out Terry understands- [the name]” said Wayne. (Look, if he knew how to say the name, he’d say it. But he only found out he could understand this language like, all of two seconds ago so sue him.)

“Oh,  _ cool! _ ” said Duke (because he was old.) “That’s great, Terry. You’ll find it’s super useful underwater.”

“Well that’s nice.” said Jason. “He gets the magic cheat codes.”

“Bet you’re jealous.” teased Ms. Cassandra.

“Absolutely.”

“Alright you two.” says Mr. Wayne. “Cut the chatter on comms.”

He sounded kinda… well, like a dad. That thought made Terry’s heart hurt, so he distracted himself by turning his attention back to the feed from the team at the tower, who were now slipping into a window high above street level. 

Way shway. 

The screen showed them moving through a large office, while here at the cave Mr. Wayne was furiously typing some lines of complicated code. Terry knew enough to know it was much harder than the HTML he’d learned in middle school. Back on the screen, Mrs. Stephanie was doing something at the desk and Damian was rifling through a closet. Back here in the cave, Terry saw Wayne’s eyes narrow and noticed his typing picking up pace. A couple minutes passed this way, Damian and Mrs. Stephanie continuing to do… whatever it is they were doing, while Mr. Wayne typed fast and looked increasingly worried, occasionally murmuring something to Ms. Gordon, Mr. Drake or Jason. The team at the docks had also made it in by now.

“What is it?” Terry whispered after the tension had become too much for him.

“We’re not sure.” said Mr. Wayne, and if he wasn’t scared before, he sure was now.

“Agents Alpha and Beta, do you have your gas masks?”

“Yes.”

“Put them on.”

Once, when Terry’s family had taken a beach trip as a kid, he had been climbing some rocks and saw a sea anemone. There had been a gap between the rock he stood on and the one with the anemone, but it hadn’t been terribly big, so he’d figured he could just Steph over it. Midway through, he had slipped and started falling down into the pitch dark gap. Thankfully, he had thrown his arms out and caught himself in time, roughing up his arms pretty bad in the process. He didn’t really remember what had happened the rest of that day, but the feeling of his heart leaping into his throat- of not knowing what was about to happen, only that it was  _ bad- _ was the same feeling he felt now.

“Gas masks?” he echoed from beside Mr. Wayne.

“It’s all right, Terry. I’ve detected something in the air, but their masks have the best filters out there. They’re just looking for possible records of those looking to purchase the bioweapon, then they’re out of there. Only a few more minutes, ok?”

“Oh.” said Terry, only able to calm his racing heart somewhat. “What about my dad? Also, he’s a criminal, and Ms. Gordon’s the commissioner, right? Why can’t the police handle this?”

“If Mr. Powers was behind your father’s death, it was likely kept off the record or on a private server. That’s how those things are typically done. Regardless, they will keep an eye out for anything incriminating. As for the police, this is Gotham. We like to collect evidence ourselves and hand it over to the system later- especially on cases involving magic or marine endangerment.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Quite.”

“And doesn't that make the commissioner complicit in like, withholding evidence or something?”

“Yes. This is the first time we’ve done something like this since she became commissioner, but yes, she could be fired for this.”

Mr. Wayne’s delivery was so deadpan that Terry half thought he was joking. He wished he was, anyway. Ms. Gordon was a nice lady. And the best thing to happen to the police force since her father, from what he’d heard.

“Sometimes we must act outside the hold of the law to do what’s right, Terry.” said Wayne.

“Guess that’s something a famous mer vigilante would say.”

“I do.”

Terry gave a weak laugh and decided to focus on the feed from the docks for now. They were making good progress, the trio had made it into the building and were going room to room… somehow. Terry didn’t pretend to understand their methods. All he had was first person body cam footage to work with and none of the fancy spy movie exposition and editing. Turns out, real live breaking and entering went a lot slower and felt a lot less dramatic without an epic soundtrack. He wondered whether they had ever considered using one.

He continued in his successful distraction for a few minutes- until he was abruptly reminded of his previous distress by a loud wet cough coming from the office feed and his fear came back in full force. He whipped his head around fast enough to catch the tail end of a worried frown Mr. Wayne was doing his best to smooth over.

“Beta? Alpha? What was that?” asked Wayne.

“That was me.” said Mrs. Stephanie. “Gotta say, I’m not feeling too hot. You, Beta?”

“Not feeling great either. What’s in the air?” said Damian.

“Don’t know. But if it can bypass your masks, I want you out of there, now.”

“Copy that, boss. Think I’ve found what I’m looking for, anyways. Time to blow this popsicle stand, Beta. Let’s-”

Whatever Mrs. Stephanie had been about to say was abruptly cut off by the sound of a door slamming open. Terry’s heart leapt to his throat.

The cameras briefly showed the doorway filled with a strong green glow before Mrs. Stephanie and Damian made a break for the windows, but were crippled by the wall of gas that had poured into the room upon the door’s opening. Their wet coughs as they collapsed to the floor was the last thing Terry heard before the feed blacked out completely.

He stared at the screen in horror. 

“Wh- what was? How? What happened? Will they be ok?”

It had all… it had been so sudden. One moment Mrs. Stephanie had been joking and the next…

Mr. Wayne was back to typing while glaring at the screen in earnest. There was a tightness to his shoulders that not even the Bat Mer could mask.

“It appears,” said Mr. Wayne. Voice tight with cold fury. Fury and fear. “The gas form is more complete than we were led to believe.”

The decision to send Mrs. Stephanie and Damian into the field without their usual magic- which, from what Ms. Gordon had gleaned, was one of the only possible counters- was made so that no one would connect this venture to the old Bat Clan. They had withdrawn from the city and didn’t want to raise false signals of return over one mission. A mission they were only on because of him. And now…

Mr. Wayne hadn’t wasted a moment. Mr. Drake was already on his way, but he was on the clear other side of the city. Ms. Gordon had dropped the files and was moving in with a squad, but all of them would be completely unprotected against the gas’s effect. This was bad- he could  _ see _ on Mr. Wayne’s face this was  _ bad _ . Damian and Mrs. Staphanie had been  _ caught _ . They had been exposed to Power’s gas and were probably  _ dying _ and he…

Felt. Something.

Something that felt like…

Terry finally tore his gaze from the screens and looked instead to the line of suspended pendants on the far wall. Specifically, the blood red one. It was sleeker and sharper than the others. Newer, too. It had absolutely entranced him upon his first entrance to the cave and it suddenly had that same pull on him now. 

Terry glanced at the screens again, committing the one displaying a map of each member’s location to memory. Then he glanced at Wayne, tense and fearful for the lives of his children, and took off running. 

Feet pounding down the walkway, Terry made a mad dash for the pendant, plunging his hand into the water column and grasping the smooth-roughness of sea glass. Bruce might’ve said something then, might’ve shouted to get his attention, but whatever he said was lost to Terry as the sensation of  _ change _ washed over him completely. From his hair to his wrists to his toes- everything felt like it was being stretched and pulled and pinched all at once until- until it wasn’t. Until he found himself underwater with scales and fins and a  _ tail _ and the impossible ability to breathe. Until he remembered his mission and took off like a shot towards the underwater exit of the cave with a strength unlike any he had ever known. 

In no time Terry had made it to an entrance highlighted on Bruce’s map of the city water routes. It was an old stone tunnel of sorts that led into darkness, making Terry realize that while he knew the streets just fine, this maze of underwater corridors was completely foreign to him. How was he supposed to…? Just then, he thought he heard a faint voice. Sound traveled way farther underwater and he wasn’t even  _ close _ to adapted to his new senses, so where-

“-ry. Terry can you hear me? Terry!”

“Mr. Wayne?”

“Terry! What were you  _ thinking? _ ”

Terry looked around wildly. He could see much further like this, but underwater still felt so open and  _ exposed _ . Even still, he couldn’t see Wayne. Could the old whale mer really have caught up with him that quickly?

“Mr. Wayne? Where  _ are _ you?”

“I’m still in the cave-” his pendant.  _ Mr. Wayne’s voice was filtering through Terry’s pendant- _ “which is where you should be  _ right now _ . Get back here this  _ instant _ before-”

“No!”

“ _ No? _ Terry, this is-”

“Their lives are on the line! I  _ have _ to help them!”

“You don’t have to do anything! Now come back before you get hurt.”

“ _ Hurt? _ Powers has Damian and Mrs. Stephanie! It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does! Tim and Barbara are on their way-”

“But they don’t have the protection needed to survive the gas! I’ve heard you guys talk about this pendant- I  _ know _ it’s the best chance we have against this stuff. The others are all too far away, it  _ has _ to be me!”

Wayne was silent for a moment and Terry felt a twinge of regret for putting the old guy in a tough position- but slag it this whole situation was tough! No matter what Wayne said he was going in there and was  _ going _ to save them. He had to.

“Alright, Terry.”

“Wh- wait, really?”

“As much as I hate it, you’re right. Now, I’ll gander that you don’t know your way around the tunnels?”

That was it, then? The old mer was letting him do this. He was doing this. “Barely even hear of them till tonight.” Terry said with a weak chuckle.

“Don’t worry then, I’ll direct you.” Wayne’s voice was still tense, but Terry could swear he detected a warm note to it now.

Terry grinned. He was still terrified out of his mind, but years of fights had already taught him that terror and excitement were pups in a pod. “Where to, boss?”

\--

With Wayne’s guidance, Terry swiftly made it to the building. Well, underneath the building, actually. Further down than even the basement- which was likely where Damian and Mrs. Stephanie were being held. Problem now was getting in.

“Boss.” called Terry

“Yes?”

“Is there an entrance to the place from here?”

“No.”

“Then how-”

“Magic. You’re going to need to cast an incorporeal spell on yourself. Well, more like, activate the pendant’s built in spell.”

Terry went to bite his lip in worry, but stopped due to how  _ sharp _ his teeth were. A quick check revealed that almost all his teeth felt different and- no. He had to stay focused. “But I don’t know any magic.”

“Remember that feeling you had when you touched the pendant?”

“Yeah? Like, the itching?”

“Not physically. I mean the  _ pull _ you felt in the back of your mind.”

“Oh.” Was  _ that _ what that was? Magic?

“You can do this Terry, remember what that pull felt like and concentrate on that feeling. Then, all you have to do is focus on your intent. You want to become incorporeal. Less solid. A part of the water itself, almost.”

“Simple as that? No magic words or nothing?”

“Simple as that.”

Ok. He could do this. Probably. Terry did his best to recall that weird sorta  _ tug _ in the back of his mind and found that now that he knew what to look for, he was able to pinpoint the feeling immediately. There, in the back of his mind, right where it had always been. His magic. Pushing away his excitement (he’d have a proper freak out later) Terry closed his eyes and imagined his body going incorporeal. Translucent. Like a ghost. 

He opened his eyes, looked at his hands and gasped.

They were see-through!

“Bruce!”

“You did it?”

“Yeah! I did, I- oh.” his hands had returned back to normal. Well, the normal pitch black webbed hands of his mer form- not his actual normal hands.

“It’s ok. You’ve just lost your concentration. Spells like these take constant effort to maintain.” the old mer did his best to sooth.

“O- ok.” Terry stammered out, trying to recover from the confidence drop losing the spell had brought him.

“If you’ve done it once you can do it again. It’s ok, chum.”

“Yeah. Ok.” Terry said, glancing around the tunnel again. “So, do I use the spell to phase through the wall?”

“You could, but that would take a lot of energy. Better for you to try and find an access point to their plumbing system and use the spell to squeeze yourself through the pipes.”

“The pipes? Oh so  _ that’s _ how you guys did all your ninja vanishing?”

“Trade secret. Back to the mission, Terrance.” Wayne scolded, but Terry could definitely hear a smile in his voice.

Looking around, Terry quickly caught sight of a pipe opening that looked to be heading straight up.

“And the building is directly above me, yes?”

“Yes. If you see an opening, go ahead and take it.”

“Ok. I’m going in.” with that, Terry poured his focus into recreating the spell he’d managed earlier. The feeling in the back of his mind intensified once again and he directed it to the desire to be  _ incorporeal _ . He looked down and saw that he was once again see-through, but this time he was sure not to let the weirdness throw him off. Instead, he looked back up at the pipe and swam toward it (doing his best not to let the feeling of water flowing  _ through _ him instead of  _ around _ him break the spell.) he wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but, just like all those ghosts in the movies, he was now moving up the little pipe. Freaky.

He swam through the dark, coming upon several bends with light at the end- the first had been a bathroom, the second had been a lab- tempting to infiltrate, but not what he was here for, so he continued onward. Eventually, after peeking out every sink faucet and showerhead he could find, he came across a room with water tanks. A lot of  _ big _ water tanks. Some of which contained the remnants of some gruesome experiments, but the biggest one, a pool, was empty. He let Mr. Wayne in on his intended course of action before slipping into the pool, peeking over the edge to find Mrs. Stephanie and Damian unconscious and strapped to a couple of examination tables. He was about to release his spell when Mr. Wayne spoke up.

“Cameras.” was all he bit out.

“What?”

His shock seemed to make Wayne pause for a split second. “Check for security cameras. Usually in the corners of rooms.”

Right. Think of this like a spy movie, Terry. He was in a spy movie now.

“Two in the corners. How do I take them out?”

“You can fire short blasts of magic from your hands, but it’s a bad idea to use in a stealth mission. For now, I’ve hacked their security and put the footage on loop. Exit the pool and get to work.”

“Got it.” Terry finally released the spell, he took a moment to blink back the nausea that came with regaining tangibility while pulling himself up the rim of the pool with a strength that he  _ knew _ he didn’t possess in human form. That same strength made it dragging himself over and onto Damain’s cot refreshingly easy, though he pondered for a moment if it wouldn’t be better for him to carry out this part of the mission on legs. Damian looked awful- limbs twitching in his sleep, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, rapid, uneven breaths that devolved into wet coughing when Terry gave him a rough shake. The worst part though, was the sores. In the time it had taken him to get there, angry red welts had formed and burst on the man’s skin becoming blackened and dry on the edges- Terry had seen old pictures of leprosy in health class, and these results looked disturbingly close to that.

“Are…” he had to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. When he opened his mouth again his voice shook. “Bruce, do you see this?”

“Yes. I’ve hacked the cameras set up to monitor their progress.”

“What do I do?” he whispered and tried to ignore how his hands had started shaking.

“Terry?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to take a deep breath.” said Mr. Wayne. His voice had gone soft.

Terry’s racing thoughts slowed. Wayne hadn’t spoken to Terry like that since that first day. It was enough to give him pause. 

“...ok.”

He took a breath.

“Now hold it.”

He held.

“Now let it go.”

He let out a shaky exhale.

Mr. Wayne took that as a cue.

“Now Terry, there’s a spell that should allow you to heal them. It’s not complicated, but it is very draining. It requires intent and concentration, just like the last spell. You can do it, son.”

He could fix this. With a spell, he could fix them. He could save them so  _ he had to get this right _ .

“Ok.” he said, trying to muster up enough confidence to make that true.

“Ok.” echoed Mr. Wayne. “Put your hand on his skin and extend your magic. Envision it flowing through you to him to assess the damage.”

Terry reached out and placed a hand on Damian’s forehead, avoiding any open sores, and called upon the magic he had used just a minute ago. It came, but only just barely. The connection felt shakier, slipping out of his grasp like the sea cucumbers he found at the beach as a kid- he didn't- it wasn’t working. He felt his throat start to close up again because  _ he couldn’t do this _ and now Damian and Mrs. Stephanie would  _ die _ because he  _ couldn’t get it right he could never get it right and- _

“Terry? Terry, you’re hyperventilating.”

“It's not working!”

“You’re distressed and distracted, of course it’s going to be harder to use magic. All you need to do is breathe and focus. It’ll work, I promise.”

“For you, maybe! I’ve never done this! I’m just going to slag this up like _everything_ _else_ I can’t-”

“You  _ can _ , Terry. You can do this. You want to know how I know? Because you managed to pull off an incorperability spell for  _ ten solid minutes _ . That’s an  _ incredible _ accomplishment, especially for someone who’s hardly even  _ seen _ magic used before. You have immense power, more than enough to save them. I trust you, Terry, you just need to  _ trust yourself _ .”

A part of Terry’s mind tried to argue that Mr. Wayne was just  _ saying _ that, but he pushed it away to try and focus. He was out of his depth, he had no idea what he was doing, he barely knew how to use magic- but Mr. Wayne believed in him. Mr. Wayne  _ trusted _ him to save the lives of  _ his kids _ . And, just like Mr. Wayne said, he’d done this magic thing before, he knew it wasn’t impossible.

“I’ll try.” he managed. 

“That’s all I ask of you, son.”

Terry rested his hand on Damian’s forehead again, willing the magic to come. This time, when he felt the pull of the magic, he breathed and tried to follow Mr. Wayne’s advice- picturing the magic moving from him to Damian and finding the problems. Just like that he was somehow  _ aware _ of Damian. He could  _ feel _ the parts that had been affected by the toxin and the toxin moving through his bloodstream. It felt wrong, like decay and rot compared to the vibrant cells that made up the rest of his body.

“I got it!”

“Good, you know what's wrong?”

“I can feel the toxin, yeah.”

“Alright. All you need to do now is channel your magic to those parts. Focus on destroying the toxin. Enough magic combined with the desire to be gone should be enough. It’s not an elegant solution, but whatever you can manage helps, Terry.”

“Ok.”

Ok. Yeah. He could do this. He drew up more magic and imagined it attacking the toxin like white blood cells, moving from spot to spot in an agonizingly slow process. Mr. Wayne was right, he was essentially throwing magic at the problem like a firehose instead of a scalpel- it was crude but it was  _ working _ . It was  _ actually working _ . He was getting rid of the toxin and Damian was gonna be ok because  _ he was actually doing it! _ That burst of confidence was apparently just what he needed, because his connection to his magic suddenly  _ clicked _ into place- solidifying in a way that even the incorporeal spell hadn’t done. Giving him an even better handle on the magic coursing through Damian. It was like driving a top of the line car after years and years of fighting an old rusty land cruiser. It felt great, but it felt even better to see Damian’s eyes flit open and the fellow half mer groan.

He’d done it. Damian was alive and he’d  _ done it _ .

He set about tearing off the restraints around Damian’s hands and feet, but may have teared up a little when Damian croaked out a weak “McGinnis?” after he could keep his eyes open for longer than a couple seconds.

“Yeah. Yeah it’s me. How’re you feeling?” 

Damian’s choice of response was less than polite, but seeing how the man had just been pumped full of killer toxins, Terry didn’t think he could fault him.

Suddenly, Damian’s eyes shot open, all traces of fog gone.

“Brown!”

“What?”

“Stephanie! Where is she?”

Terry froze. Slag. Oh slag it, slag everything, slag  _ him _ .

He flung himself back onto the cold ground and began to drag himself over to Mrs. Stephanie’s cot, but was interrupted by a strong pair of arms picking him up by the waist and plopping him down on the cot instead. Mrs. Stephanie looked bad. Better than Damian had, but not by much

“Can you help her?” asks Damian.

“I- yeah. I helped you and all that.”

“I’m aware. What I meant was, do you have enough magic left to help her?”

Terry felt his throat go tight again. He had been so caught up in the elation of saving Damian he’d forgotten his exhaustion. He reached for his magic just to check and- yep. Those last two spells had taken a lot out of him.

“I think so. It feels pretty low, though.”

“I feared as much. That toxin attacked my magic stores directly, and, with my body in recovery, I cannot complete the healing myself.”

“I’ll do what I can, then.”

“No, Terrance-” said Damian, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “We’ll do this together.”

Terry blinked.

“You can do that?”

Damian snorted. 

“Of course you can.”

Terry didn’t appreciate the snark, but now wasn’t the time to let annoyance get the better of him. He met Damian’s eye.

“How?”

Damian took Terry’s hand and placed it on Mrs. Stephanie’s exposed cheek, then placed his own right next to him while taking hold of the pendant with the other.

“Think of it like circuitry.” Mr. Wayne piped up, “When you work together, it’s like having two batteries instead of one. Your action will be the same, but you’ll have more power.”

Damian nodded. 

“It’ll be easier now that you’ve done it once before, anyway.” he said, then they got to work.

It  _ was _ easier the second time, and, after they’ve exhausted themselves scrubbing Mrs. Stephanie’s blood stream clean, Wayne theorizes that the toxin didn’t hit her as hard because she had no magic to target. Not that they were going to let that theory be tested on a larger sample size, but it was nice to know he needed to avoid the stuff extra hard.

As Terry ripped off Mrs. Stephanie’s restraints, he idly wondered aloud what the specs of the pendant were. He was snapping these solid metal bracers right off the table.

“At least tenfold your normal limit.”

“ _ Tenfold? _ ” he echoed incredulously while Damian made the executive decision to carry Mrs. Stephanie to the more defensible position of behind the table- out of sight of the doors should anyone walk in. Terry dropped down next to them.

“There’s also a spell that shoots nets. I’ll teach it to you when you get home.”

“You’ll come to my apartment?” says Terry, more for the sake of keeping up the chatter and hopefully helping Mrs. Stephanie, who was now awake but woozy, back to consciousness (but also for the pure enjoyment of catching Wayne in his slip-up.)

“I’ll teach you when you get back to the cave.” the elder amends.

“Nope! You said home! I’m sure we can fit you in the living room if we move the couches. What do you like to eat? My mom will absolutely want to make something.”

“Food?” groaned Mrs. Stephanie before Wayne could retaliate.

‘No’ is what Terry started to say, but Damian beat him to it by shoving a powerbar of some sort into her hands.

“Oh.” said Mrs. Stephanie, shaking her head as if to chase away the fog of the drug. “That’s nice Dami, you  _ do _ care.”

“Don’t push it, Brown.” said the man in response, but his words held about as little heat as Terry’s threats to his own brother. 

Terry helped Mrs. Stephanie up as Damian made his way to a locker near the door, flicking it open to reveal the rest of their equipment. 

“Amatures.” he tisked, then got to work getting their communicators back online.

“Incoming guard rotation.” came Mr. Wayne’s voice in Terry’s ear, which he then relayed to the others.

“Understood.” said Damian while tossing Mrs. Stephanie an earpiece, which she popped in her ear just in time to hear Wayne’s confirmation that it was, indeed, fully functional.

“Terry.” called Mrs. Stephanie as she began retrieving the rest of her equipment. “Get back in the pipes and head home, we’ll make it out from here.” 

Terry felt his eyebrow (wait, did he even  _ have _ eyebrows in this form? Ugh, no, whatever. That was a problem for later) quirk up.

“I literally just came all the way here to save your guys’ butts. You  _ literally _ would have  _ died _ without me. I’m coming with you.”

He was met with both Damian and Mrs. Stephanie’s (masked) glares for his efforts.

“We can handle it from here.” said Damian.

“Not if you get poisoned again.” snapped Terry. “Which, by the way, I am your only defense against.”

“Back up’s on its way.” cut in Mr. Wayne. “Tim can help them out and the police can handle Powers.”

“The police can’t handle  _ slag _ if they get poisoned too.” grit Terry through the mounting frustration in his gut. “We need to take it out  _ before _ anyone else gets hurt.”

Damian and Mrs. Stephanie shared a significant look, but were interrupted by Mr. Wayne before they could say anything.

“The guards are almost on you. Be ready.”

They sprung into action. Mrs. Stephanie scooping Terry up and setting him behind her when she settled on one side of the door, with Damian crouched, knife drawn, on the other. After a tense moment, the door slides open and a black clad security guard steps in. Damian is on them before they can even flick on the light. The guard lets out a sound of surprise as they’re being dragged that draws a second in behind them. This one is quickly taken down by Mrs. Staphanie. Terry waits to see if more will come, but Mr. Wayne gives them the all clear and Mrs. Stephanie turns back to Terry. 

“You can come,” she says. Terry senses a ‘but’. “But you have to do  _ exactly _ what we say  _ when _ we say it, ok? We’re going to try and neutralize the gas before Powers can ship it out.”

Terry nods. 

“Powers obviously has a supply in his office, and he likely has some stored down here too. We’ll case the sublevels before heading up.”

“Take off the pendant.” said Damian.

“What?”

Damian tossed him a shirt. Terry blinked. Then noticed the now shirtless (and unconscious) security guard Damain is kneeling over.

“You and I can blend in as guards, which will make it easy for us to scope out the floor.”

“Why can’t  _ I _ blend in as a guard?” whisper-shouted Mrs. Staphanie.

“Because neither of these guards are blond.” said Damian, whisper-shouting back.

“Killjoy.” grumbled Mrs. Stephanie as she finished up robbing her guard. 

Terry slipped off the pendant and got a truckload of that weird but now familiar  _ feeling _ before he was back to normal. He shucked off his jacket and pants, throwing on the guard uniform Mrs. Stephanie pushed into his arms and shoved his clothes into her bag. He then slipped the pendant into his pocket, close enough to grab but not touching his skin to prevent any sudden transformations. 

He made eye contact with Damian and nodded.

Go time.

\--

By the time the trio had swept the basement and neutralized the stash of poison they found, the police had arrived and so had Tim. The kid had been properly awed at what they had accomplished- especially the bad you-know-what takedowns. Which was nice. It was nice to be reminded that she was really  _ heckin _ cool sometimes. Stephanie was particularly proud of the fact that they had managed to convince Tim to stay outside and provide remote assistance. The police, on the other hand, wouldn’t be of much help at the moment. Barbara’s leak had clued them all into the nature of the toxins they were working with, and they only had so much protective equipment, so the police teams infiltrating the building had to move  _ carefully _ .

Careful being another word for  _ slow _ .

No matter. The ‘technically not bat’ team still had the best chance confronting Powers, so up the stairwell they went. Their grapple guns would’ve been ideal, of course, but whoever had stashed their stuff had decided that was the  _ one _ thing worth taking. Next best option would’ve been an elevator, but no one was particularly trusting of them. Especially those new age kinds that could be hacked or some crap. Bruce and Tim had checked the whole building and found no sign of The Pretentious Prick Himself, but had found a suspicious lack of access to the cameras in Powers’ office. When they had been found to be completely inaccessible, it was assumed that the cameras were destroyed, meaning they would be going in blind.

“So.” said Steph around floor nineteen or so. “You catch what was up with all that green in the doorway, B? Or you, Beta? Think Powers has a severe love of twenties style LED strips or that it’s got something to do with the weapon?”

“I don’t know.” said Tim. “All cameras in the building went out from the time you got caught ‘til after you were moved to the basement.”

“Sounds kinda in violation of worker safety.” said Terry glibly between pants. Gosh she loved this kid.

“They’ll claim it was a glitch, I’m sure.” said Tim.

“How are the rest coming along?” asked Dami. A strain in his voice that was either frustration from being caught or the results of him falling behind on the approved Bat Workout Regimen. She wished it was the second- because she was as mad as him about the first.

“Fine.” said Bruce, who wasn’t doing his ‘focus on the mission’ voice, so they probably  _ were _ fine. That was good. At least two things were going well tonight.

The group fell silent again until around the sixtieth floor, when Tim notified them of the police having entered the premise, at which they groaned and redoubled their climbing efforts. Curse their loss of grapple guns. All the non-powered heroes like her had vehicles for a  _ reason _ .

When they had finally made it to the top and taken a minute to rest their legs (because really, the person who decided to make this building  _ one hundred and twenty two floors _ deserved a  _ thorough _ butt whooping. Whoever it was had now officially made it to Stephanie’s Despised Architect List. Right up there with Brutalists and window enthusiasts.) Bruce chimed back in to let them know the floor appeared to be clear of all lifeforms, but to proceed with caution. Damian took hold of the pendant in order to transform and cast a quick locating spell, which he had performed on the basement levels to find the caches of toxin, letting Terry save up his energy for the actual neutralization process.

“It’s restricted to the office.” Dami reported after a moment of concentration. He slipped off the pendant and stood, returning to his bipedal form (clothes and all, don’t worry).

“Typical elitist dreg, hogging all the cool fog machines for himself.” Terry snorted. Had she mentioned she loved this kid yet? Because she loved this kid. First day on the job and he’s already quipping like a pro- children really were the future. She gave him two ‘ok’ hand signs before refocusing on the mission.

They proceeded with caution across the dark hallway and through the reception room, wary of any hidden toxic misters, till the trio was peeking into the (frankly huge) office for the second time that night. At which point Terry transformed and let himself be picked up by Damian while Stephanie scanned the room with her mask’s sensors- knowing that Bruce and Tim were doing the same.

“I see what could be mister nozzles along the edges of the room.” she reported “Think we can fry them?”

“I’m not sure your  _ tasers _ can generate enough electricity to overload their system.” said Tim in a deadpan.

“Thanks for the encouragement,  _ Tech Support _ . I was talking about the kid.”

“Huh?” said Terry.

“There’s a spell for electricity generation.” supplied Damian. “If you can expose the circuitry, I can manage it.”

“Ok” said Terry, and Damian let him down into the room. Stephanie made sure to leave the door propped open while Terry shuffled his way to the baseboards. Absently, she was reminded of a seal attempting to waddle around on land. Watching mers always reminded her of seals.

The kid seemed to inspect the molding for a moment before digging his nails in and prying a whole section off, exposing what was indeed a little mist machine under the board. He ripped out a handful of wires as Damian slipped into the room to crouch down and cast the electricity spell. Lucky for them, all the misters seemed to be hooked up to one another- if the series of whines and pops that went round the room were any indication. With the threat of being spontaneously gassed out of the way, Steph finally slipped into the room to continue with the original mission of dirt gathering while the other two focused on finding the container(s?) of poison. She had found a list of buyers and shipment dates (that they now had video footage of) before they had been ambushed, but had yet to find anything on Terry’s dad. The closest she’d come was finding the records of the… long term effects of the poison in Powers’ desk. The victim had been someone named Harry Tully, an employee that Stephanie remembered seeing on many of the same project rosters as the late Mr. McGinnis. The results sounded grisly, so she’d snapped some photos before setting them back to let the police handle. Resuming her earlier search through the hacked file cabinet, she noticed a distinct lack of all the files she’d touched before. Looks like whoever caught them knew to clean up after themselves. A shame.

A pulse of strong magic was felt in the air, letting Stephanie know that the boys had found the poison and were getting rid of it. Pushing the cabinet shut with a disappointed huff, she listened to Damian give Barbara the all clear before Tim’s voice crackled to life on comms.

“Steph, I had visuals on a green something moving in your direction. Be prepared for-”

“So this is where you’ve run off to.” said a voice. Deeper, middle-aged, with a deadly smooth quality that reminded Stephanie of foxes who’ve caught their prey. It came from all around them, though, and she caught sight of Damian shoving Terry into the shadows behind him and taking up a defensive stance while looking for the potential source. The dramatics were cut when an arcid green glow peeked through the doorway before solidifying into a figure. It was a skeleton- black as pitch and surrounded by what looked to be translucent green flesh. Flesh that was glowing like a vat of toxic waste. She heard Terry give a small gasp off to the side.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t mind sticking around for some data collection. After all, it’s not often we get to test on specimens with your specific… genetic make-up.” said the walking Party City Halloween decoration, shooting a hungry smile in Damian’s direction. Well, hungry  _ look _ , she supposed. Skeletons were always smiling.

“I’m surprised  _ you’ve _ stuck around. What with the police swarming the place.” shot Stephanie.

“It is of no matter,” said Skele-guy, raising a glowing hand in her direction as it started to glow brighter. Uh oh. “What do you say we all make our getaway together, hmm?”

Well, she had her answer to that question.

A cup full of pens wasn’t the most orthodox weapon, but it still made a valiant effort when Stephanie hurled that sucker at Skeletor Jr.’s face while shouting “No thanks!” before ducking down behind the desk and retrieving her (much more formidable) staff.

In the moment it took for her to pop back up, Damian had engaged the knockoff Sans Undertale and was dodging more glow blasts while trying to drive them back out the door. A quick glance towards the corner told her that Terry was still curled up on the floor, blending in perfectly with the shadows except for two snow white eyes that one would miss if they didn’t know what to look for. Reassured of her charge’s relative safety, Stephanie moved in to attack. Getting in a hit was unfortunately tricky, cause while young Vlad Masters over here certainly wasn’t trained, they  _ were _ good at blasting ectoplasm or whatever the slag. Dodging became even more imperative once Terry managed to hiss over comms that the figure was, in fact, shooting something  _ very _ similar to the toxin they had just spent the past half hour combating. Because of  _ course _ they were. Out-magic-ing a sedentary container of toxin was one thing- a renewable source of that same toxin was something completely different. This job had, as most jobs were wont to do, become incredibly harder.

Bruce relayed the development to the other teams- with an added command to book it over here and provide backup, because a living vat of highly dangerous chemicals & magic was more than they had bargained for.

Stephanie dodged another beam before striking close enough to push their hand aside, which gave Damian an opening to land a hit across their face with his own staff. After that it was child's play- M. Chernobyl going down with a few well placed strikes in between their continued glow stick juice assault. But, because the universe hated her, when she went in for the final K.O., the figure’s light pulsed once before exploding outward. She barely had time to register a faint gasp and the wall of glowing green before the blast was being halted by a wall of glowing  _ red _ .

Stephanie blinked. 

The red barrier was still there.

She glanced over at Damian, who was still fully human and also still had his staff raised in a defensive position. It was only when her gaze zeroed in on the kid in the corner that she made the connection- apparently at the same time as the skeleton, too, if the gasp of villainous glee was anything to go by. Because really, the sight of Terry in full Bat Mer form, hand outstretched to maintain the magic force field protecting Steph and Damian must have been this dude’s Christmas gift come early.

“So  _ that’s _ how you got out.” purred the nightlight. Legit  _ purred _ . Ugh, why did villains always make themselves sound like such creeps?

More importantly, why did they always go for the kids? Time for a redirect. “Eyes over here, lavalamp!” roared Stephanie as she and Damian once again moved in for the (non-literal) kill.

“Not when my prize is so close.” crooned the figure, sending out another large wave of toxin that Terry was forced to block once again.

They picked themselves off the ground, sending volley after volley of toxin blasts to keep her and Damian pinned while they advanced on the kid. “If you want to protect them so badly, why don’t you be a good fishy and come with me? I see that symbol on your chest. If you fancy yourself the Bat Mer then you should play the hero, as he would.”

Terry’s walls visibly faltered as he considered their words. Slag villains and their manipulative monologuing.

“He’s staying right here!” cried Damian, signaling her to move forward. The two were halted in their advance by another large blast.

Terry was visibly shaking from the night’s strain now, but his voice was calm when he spoke.

“I’ll go.” he said. “I’ll go with you if you leave them alone.”

“ _ Excellent _ .” said radioactive Jack Skelington at the same time Steph and Dami cried “No!” The figure sent a few more shots their way in retaliation. Damian gently pressed on the barrier to test it but- yup. It was solid on both sides. They were completely  _ useless _ .

M. Glowy had reached Terry and was holding out a hand from their spot looming over him.

“Let’s depart now, shall we? Wouldn’t want the police to see you here, after all.”

The pause after that had Stephanie worried, but it was eclipsed by pride when the kid said in a perfect ‘you’re an  _ idiot’ _ voice:

“I can’t walk.”

The person’s hand curled into a tight fist.

“Then _crawl_.” they growled.

“With the time we got? I can hear the police coming up the stairs. If you wanna get out of here in time you’ll have to carry me.” (which was a lie, Tim informed her, but who was she to dissuade them?)

“Fine!”

They reached down to seize Terry who met their arm halfway with his own.

“One more thing, though.” said Terry with a mad grin, tightening his hold till his claws, now practically  _ dripping _ with magic, had pierced skin and yanking them down to the floor with a thud. 

“I  _ am _ the Bat Mer.”

The figure roared and charged a blast directed at Terry’s face, but the kid had dropped the protection spell while busy dropping the baddie, so they got Stephanie’s foot to the face instead. The kick was accompanied by a very satisfying crunch sound.  _ Man _ that felt good.

Damian gave them another knock on the head for good measure before kneeling beside Terry and taking hold of the pendant. The two half mers shared a look and reached out to touch the prone figure’s exposed arm, their own hands encased in red and yellow magic respectively. They drew back after a moment, Damian making eye contact and shaking his head.

“They’re too powerful to simply shut down. We need to move them and set up a temporary protective barrier, but we’ll want to look into a more long term holding, too. Maybe Atlantis can help with- Alpha, duck!”

Stephanie dropped into a crouch in time to hear the familiar ‘whoosh’ of a fist go right over her. She then used her staff to knock aside the follow up hit, but was too slow to dodge the kick that clocked her in the ribs and sent her to a rolling stop on the ground a few feet away. When she looked up she saw a hulking humanoid figure in an equally large trench coat with a gun trained on Terry, forcing Damian to back away while they scooped up the toxic skeleton person with one arm. Damian motioned for her to stay down, and the trio watched as their new attacker silently made off with their first one.

“Red?” she hissed over comms once their adversaries were out the door, scrambling to her feet.

“Building’s cams are scrambled again, I only have your footage. They had a mask on so facial’s a no go. We’ll run a more thorough check later. Police are covering every known entrance to the building, but your visitors’ still got the green guy. Give chase.”

By the time the words “give chase” had left Tim’s mouth, Stephanie and Damian were already scanning the reception room outside the office door. Empty. Damian moved down the hall to check the stairwell and elevator while she checked for any movable windows. Nothing.

“They’re gone.” spat Damian.

“Alright,” said Bruce after a couple of minutes. “Team B is done and Barbara has some trusted officers monitoring the McGinnis house. That’s all we can do for tonight. Come home.”

\--

They had left the building through the window. Which was absolutely insane, because they were a whole  _ one hundred and twenty two floors up off the ground _ . Mrs. Stephanie and Damian treated it like it was nothing, which was probably for the best, because Terry had barely kept himself from screaming the whole zipline ride (courtesy of Mr. Drake) to the next roof over. From the roof the four of them made it down to ground level, where they showed him an entrance to the tunnel system and their awaiting submarine getaway. Because yeah, submarine rides through secret underwater tunnels in Gotham was a thing he was doing now, apparently.

The ride to the cave was spent in silence, which was fine by him, because he needed a moment to process all that… everything. So much. It was only one thirty in the morning, but yesterday afternoon felt like a whole lifetime ago. Discovering those files, confronting Powers, running to the manor, watching the mission,  _ joining _ the mission, saving Damian and Mrs. Stephanie, and then that fight with the magic skeleton person. Definitely the weirdest fight he’d ever been in. He’d had no clue what he was doing, too. He had barely even started casting magic (real magic! He could use magic now!), but when the green person had… exploded, for lack of a better word, he’d just,  _ acted _ . Completely on instinct. Didn’t even know what he was doing besides needing to  _ protect them _ and then boom! There was a magic forcefield! An actual magic forcefield. That  _ he _ had made. Him. Terry McGinnis could summon  _ magical forcefields _ . Mr. Wayne hadn’t even told him how to do that! He’d just done it! And then they’d got ambushed again and lost the guy, but the whole thing was still just so  _ wow _ . He’d fought off some crazy supervillain type and saved Mrs. Stephanie and Damian, then they’d all ziplined away like spies. No- like  _ superheroes _ . Was this what being a superhero felt like? Because this felt amazing. The only thing that would make him feel more content right now was if they’d managed to find Powers. For a second he’d thought the green guy kinda sounded familiar, but… he wasn’t sure. He decided to sideline that train of thought though, because they were now docking in the cave. In the  _ Batcave _ . Because these people were  _ The Bat Clan _ . And yeah he’d already had this freakout, but it felt like a whole new thing now that he’d actually witnessed them in action and had even been out there  _ himself _ .

They disembarked, Damian showing him how to get from the submarine to the platform without slipping and falling into the water. Though he needn’t have bothered, because the first thing he was greeted with upon making it to safety was a dripping wet hug.

“Good lord, kid.” sighed Jason after the mer had squeezed the living daylights out of him. “Dami and Steph were bad enough, do you know what kind of heart attack you gave all of us running off like that? Poor Timbo fell out of his seat when he heard. We were worried sick!”

“Oh. ‘m sorry…” Terry mumbled.

“Ah, no you’re not.” Jason said with a wry smile. “But it’s alright, Terrio, none of us are mad. We all understand where you’re coming from. We just care about you, ok? We don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I second that!” called Mr. Duke, swimming up to the dock. “Besides, how could any of us be mad at you? You were amazing out there tonight, Terry! You learned to speak Jersey Mer, learned to use magic, single-handedly saved Damian and Steph and then saved them again  _ after _ neutralizing a bunch of highly deadly poison! You saved a lot more than two lives by getting rid of that stuff, you know.”

“Yeah! Do you know how long it took the B team over there to finish? And  _ they _ didn’t even have to learn magic to perform any life saving medical procedures.”

“Or learn an incorporeality spell.” said Damian.

“Or a shielding spell.” said Ms. Cassandra.

“Or fight a magically toxic mad scientist skeleton person.” said Mr. Grayson.

“ _ And _ we’ve all been training longer than you’ve been alive.” said Mr. Drake.

“I- well, I guess when you put it  _ that _ way…”

“Or  _ any _ way. Because you’re amazing, and you did amazing, and we’re all insanely proud of you.” finished Jason with a beaming smile.

“...oh.” was all Terry could say. He ducked his head to hide a pleased smile as the rest of the group laughed.

“Terry.” someone called. It was Mr. Wayne, coming to a stop at the dock’s edge beside Mr. Duke as the others quieted down.

“Thank you,” he said, with a small but growing smile.

Terry shrugged, trying not to get too worked up about it. 

“‘S whatever,” he said sheepishly. Grateful when Jason gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anyone could’ve… y’know.”

“But they didn’t. It was you. I can’t thank you enough. You were a real hero out there tonight, McGinnis.”

_ That _ got his breath to hitch, and maybe had his eyes a little watery, too. The  _ Bat Mer _ was…  _ thanking _ him? Calling him a hero? But he… he was…

“But I’m just some good for nothing punk kid, Mr. Wayne. I’m no hero. Really.” and he meant it. Terry really couldn’t stand the idea of someone like Wayne thinking he was better than anything he really was. With the kind of crap he pulled at school? Or the kind of heartache he caused his parents? Sure, he’d  _ said _ he was the Bat Mer to that guy, but that was a heat of the moment thing. Meant to freak the dude out and get the last word. These guys could think what they want, but everyone else knew that Terry McGinnis would always be some troublemaking runt. Unfortunately, his words didn’t seem to have the desired effect. In fact, they seemed to have only made Mr. Wayne  _ amused _ . Amused! When Terry was  _ trying _ to dissuade him from some stupid mistake that-

“Evidence would suggest the contrary.” said the old mer with that stupid slagging  _ amused _ smirk of his.

Terry let out a snort and shook his head.

“You’re insufferable.”

Mr. Wayne smiled a smile that Terry would’ve compared to a shark if he didn’t know the guy was a whale mer. 

“So I’ve been told.”

Then he paused, looking deep in thought before making eye contact with everyone present in the room. First Mr. Duke, then Mrs. Stephanie, Ms. Cassandra, Damian, Mr. Grayson, Mr. Drake, Jason, and lastly, him. His gaze was intense, but Terry didn’t really feel a desire to look away.

“How would you feel about a job?” he said finally.

“Like my ‘internship’?” Terry asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Not really. This operation tonight isn’t an isolated incident, it’s just the tip of the iceberg. We used to be protectors of Gotham, but I see now that we’ve been away for too long. This city needs a hero, Terry. I think you’re it.”

Terry had never dropped his jaw in shock before, but tonight had already been filled with a whole bunch of ‘firsts’- what’s one more?

“ _ Me?! _ ” he managed to choke out. “You want  _ me _ to be, what,  _ Robin? _ ”

“No,” said Wayne. “I think you would be better suited to play the very part you played tonight, McGinnis. I want you to be the Bat Mer.”

Terry must have looked stupid, standing there in water stained clothes and a shell shocked look to end all shell shocked looks, but when he gave a dumb nod, the cave erupted into cheers.

Maybe he wasn’t really a hero. Maybe the Waynes were stupid for having so much blind faith in him, he gave it a week before they all realized what a screw up he really was and let him down gently, because Terry McGinnis wasn’t hero- wasn’t  _ Bat Mer _ material, but… the look on Mr. Wayne’s face? The one he had on right now? The one filled with  _ hope _ and  _ pride _ and… and  _ love? _ It reminded him of his dad. Reminded him so much it hurt. Hurt his whole chest because his dad used to look at him like that. Whenever he’d get talking about how proud he was of Terry, and how much he looked forward to seeing who he’d become in the future, he would look at him just like that. Like he was some kind of, well, hero.

Maybe Terry McGinnis wasn’t a hero.

But maybe… maybe for his dad and mom and Matt and Dana and everyone who had stupidly believed in him when he was at his worst. Like the people in this cave with him here now. Maybe for them… 

He could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooolyyyy craaaap this took almost two whole months to write wtf. I think I'm happy w how it turned out, even if I had to make up a lot of lore on the fly. ((@owlady and Casseroles lmk if it doesn't work tho)). Also, I used M. as a title instead of Mr. or Mrs. bc they don't know Blight's gender and that's standard Atticus here. but yeah.  
> conflict dealt with, set up complete. My goal of writing a 'how Ter became the Batmer' fic done and dusted. This is the longest thing I've written to date which is wild, but that's just the kind of power Terry holds over me. ligit tho, chapter 4 was supposed to be a part of this chap, but it got to 4k and I decided to "split" it, expecting to only write another 4k words maybe. This was supposed to be over 6k words ago lmao.
> 
> ahh well. can't say I regret it. As always, my tumblr is @theycallme-ook, where I post art of terry when I'm not writing about him. feel free to shoot me a request over there and uh,,, have a good day! Remember your worth is intrinsic and you are loveable! peace!

**Author's Note:**

> should i have had this beta'd? maybe. Thanks again to the creators for letting a random like me live my dreams! Mer!au gives me The Dopamine and I hope gives yall some too :)
> 
> Remember to have compassion for yourself today! You Deserve It!!!


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